


Bright Light City

by Sarah_Black



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vegas, Don't you?, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Floor Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Las Vegas Wedding, Loss of Virginity, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Romance, Tiny bit of Angst, Wedding Night, but still, fun with condoms, i love a man in uniform, not a huge amount, purple wedding with a twist, there is a little more plot than I intended, this was meant to be a lot shorter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7328143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/pseuds/Sarah_Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Every person in my life would probably have a stroke if I did something reckless like get married in Vegas ... or maybe they wouldn’t have strokes. Maybe they just wouldn’t believe me, because ‘Sansa Stark would never do such an irresponsible thing’.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Viva Las Vegas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts).



> A Vegas wedding is something that every pairing on this site needs to have, am I right?
> 
> Tommyginger gave me this idea ages ago, and I meant to write it as a one-shot. But you know me. Thanks so much for the idea, Tommy! This one is for you.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** GRRM is the creator, the owner, the big kahuna. I make no money off this, and I do it for the fun of it.

Sansa breathed a sigh of relief. She was alone in her hotel room at last after telling Jeyne to go downstairs ahead of her. Jeyne had been excited to go and start tossing back cocktails with the other girls so she hadn’t argued.

Would the group notice if Sansa just stayed behind? She really wasn’t sure she was up for all the things the girls had been talking about doing. Drinking, gambling, going to that male strip show… It just sounded a bit too wild for Sansa. She realised that it was a bachelorette party and that it was natural for the bride-to-be and her girlfriends to go a little crazy, but it just wasn’t something Sansa could see herself enjoying. She would much rather just hang out by the pool, get a massage, and go see Britney or maybe a Cirque du Soleil show. Sansa didn’t own a tiny sparkly dress like Jeyne had put on just before she had left the room. She didn’t even know how to put false eyelashes on. 

Sansa walked over to a full length mirror on the back of a closet door and examined herself critically. She’d probably stick out like a sore thumb in her modest light blue dress and her natural makeup. There was nothing for it, however. She couldn’t imagine wearing anything quite as scandalous as Jeyne and the others would be wearing, and she didn’t like the way heavy makeup felt on her face.

Hopefully the others wouldn’t kick up a fuss about her attire. This party was about Margaery after all. Not about Sansa.

Some people would probably expect Sansa to be jealous or upset about the fact that Margaery was about to marry Joffrey Baratheon. He had been Sansa’s fiancé first, after all. But Sansa had felt nothing but relief when Joffrey broke up with her in order to take up with Margaery.

Joffrey had not been a very good fiancé. At least not to Sansa. She hoped he treated Margaery with more kindness. The sort of kindness and charm he had shown Sansa in the beginning…

***

Stannis glared daggers at his lavish surroundings. How could Robert justify going to this sort of expense on a business trip? This suite could probably host ten people.

He threw his bag down and started digging through his pockets, searching for his phone.

He paced around and scowled at the spectacular view of the fountains outside as he waited for Robert to pick up.

“Stannis? Is that you?” Robert sounded cheerful as ever. “Have you arrived?”

“Yes. And yes, I’ve just landed at the hotel.”

“What do you think of the room? Isn’t it great?” Robert sounded rather like a small boy on Christmas.

“It’s much too big for one person. This is a ridiculous expenditure.”

“I usually throw a party for the other men at the conference, it’s important to have plenty of space!”

“I still don’t understand what this conference is even _for,_ ” Stannis complained. Robert had never been entirely clear about it. Apparently it had something to do with vague concepts like boosting morale, maintaining strong business ties and ‘networking’.

“I’m not explaining it again. You know I’d be there if I could. I should never have let Cersei convince me to go skiing.”

Stannis rolled his eyes and held the phone away from his ear while Robert started cursing like a sailor. It was Robert’s own fault that he’d decided to go down the steepest slope without even so much as a refresher course on how to ski, and probably drunk to boot. It was a miracle that Robert hadn’t broken his neck. (A miracle that seemed to irk Cersei rather than please her.) Robert had managed to break both his legs, however, and would therefore be confined to his bed for the foreseeable future.

“I’m not throwing a party in my hotel room,” Stannis said once Robert stopped cursing.

“Damn it, Stannis. You promised you would take my place.”

“I’ll make sure the others are…” Stannis blew out an irritated sigh, “... entertained.” It was less satisfying to scowl at a phone than it was to scowl at his brother’s face. “And I’ll follow the instructions you gave me. But I won’t throw a party in my hotel room.” Stannis was putting his foot down. He needed his privacy.

“Fine, have it your way. I don’t care. But if you lose the company any important contracts because of this trip it’ll be your ass on the line.” Robert hung up as soon as he’d spoken.

Stannis put his phone away and scrubbed his face with both hands. He needed a shave. He needed a shave and about ten hours of sleep. He had caught a plane that had departed close to midnight from JFK and hadn’t slept a wink during the six hour flight. Stannis was never able to sleep on planes. It hadn’t taken very long to get from the airport to the Bellagio as the airport was located in the middle of the city, but Stannis’ first meeting was slated to start in two hours and he couldn’t really afford a nap.

Maybe a shower would wake him up.

***

Sansa felt exactly as out of place with Margaery, Jeyne and all the others as she had expected. They were all drinking oversized and brightly coloured cocktails like they were being paid to do it, and shrieking and giggling at the way they were consistently losing all their money playing Texas Holdem and Blackjack. One of Margaery’s loudest friends - what was her name again? Megga? - kept flirting outrageously with the handsome young card dealer, making him blush.

“Why aren’t you playing?” Leonette - Margaery’s sister-in-law - asked with a giggle, noticing that Sansa was simply sitting by and observing the other girls.

“I don’t like to gamble,” Sansa explained, looking down at her hands. Her father had always said that one ought to treat money with respect. Especially if one had worked hard to earn it. Gambling it away was foolish and irresponsible.

“You’ve barely had a drink, you don’t like to gamble and you’ve not even _looked_ at all the cute guys... “ Leonette scrunched up her face into an exaggerated thoughtful expression. “What _do_ you like doing for fun?”

“Oh, um, well, I’d enjoy going to a show -”

“A show! Of course! We were going to go see the strippers!” Leonette was hollering at the top of her voice, and the other girls started shrieking too as soon as they heard the word: ‘strippers’.

“... not that sort of show,” Sansa said with a sigh, knowing that no one was listening.

***

Stannis was dead on his feet. He’d had a full day of meetings where he had been the only person who had seemed to be the least bit concerned with keeping to the topics that were up for discussion and maintaining any sort of order. The speakers had pitched in, of course, giving their presentations about the major events, gains and losses of the past two quarters and summing up the plans for the next quarter, but it had felt like Stannis was the only one concerned with listening and asking any sensible questions. The others seemed more interested in gossiping.

“Did you hear that Mace Tyrell started a new diet?”

“No? Really? A _diet?_ ”

“Yes, apparently his doctors told him that if he didn’t do something he’d be diabetic within a year or two.”

“Are you two talking about Dad?”

“Oh, hello Garlan. Yes, we were wondering whether it’s true about his diet?”

“Yes, he’s not allowed to have any of his favourite things anymore. It’s hilarious.”

Stannis stopped listening. He didn’t care about Mace Tyrell’s new diet. He cared about bringing an end to this last meeting so they’d be able to get to the less formal part of the conference. Not that he was looking forward to the less formal part. He did not really wish to be… social with the men in the way Robert had instructed - honestly, why was it an essential part of the weekend to go to a strip club? - but he had promised. 

Stannis did not go back on a promise.

Not even when he was about to crash from exhaustion.

***

The club was huge and flashy. Margaery had wanted to go to the male revue at the OG Gentlemen’s Club and what Margaery Tyrell wanted, Margaery Tyrell got.

Sansa had barely been able to sit through ten minutes of the show before she had hightailed it to the bar downstairs. There were female strippers downstairs, but at least down here she could choose to simply stare straight at the bottles on the bar’s shelves, and no oiled up and muscular man was going to try to stick his package near her face.

“Sansa?” a familiar voice said after she had gone through a glass of club soda. “Is that really you?”

She turned around and saw Garlan Tyrell, looking quite drunk and disheveled. Judging by the amount of glitter that was sticking to his trousers he had probably had at least one lap dance.

“Hi, Garlan.” Sansa tried not to look at him with too much disapproval. Leonette probably wouldn’t mind that her husband had bought a lap dance. She certainly hadn’t objected when that ‘policeman’ had practically humped her.

“What are you doing here?” he laughed, staring at her like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“Margaery’s bachelorette party,” Sansa explained with a shrug. “The girls are upstairs,” she hurried to add when Garlan started to look around in a panic.

He calmed down and smiled. “You didn’t like the show?”

Sansa shrugged again and ducked her head. “It’s - it’s not really my thing.”

Garlan nodded sagely for a few beats, but then it was as if a light bulb had gone off behind his eyes. “Heeey!” he slurred, “there’s someone in my group who’s not really into this place, either. Do you want to go and keep him company?” His smile was so wide, and he looked so thrilled at having thought of this suggestion that Sansa couldn’t find it in her heart to simply say no. Even though that was her first instinct.

“Oh, um, that’s such a nice thought,” she said, feeling herself blush a little at the way she had suddenly been put on the spot. “Do I know him?”

“I don’t know. Do you? It’s Robert’s brother, Stannis Baratheon. Look, he’s sulking over there in that sofa. Refuses to have fun, that one.” Garlan pointed at the other end of the large room, and Sansa could just about spot a man who was sitting in a way that practically screamed that he was incredibly uncomfortable.

Sansa had never really met Stannis, but she had heard him mentioned often enough. Robert never said anything nice, and Sansa was fairly sure Cersei had once said something incredibly derisive about how it would be easier for a woman to seduce a horse than to seduce Stannis, but Sansa’s father had generally spoken well of him.

Out of the three, Sansa trusted her father’s judgement the best.

“I suppose I could go and sit with him for a little while,” Sansa said, thinking that if she sat with Stannis she would feel a bit less lonely and ignored. She knew that she wasn’t very interesting to look at next to glamorous topless girls, but she had felt _invisible_ ever since she had approached the bar, and it was not a feeling she was accustomed to. Not that she expected men to drool all over themselves due to her presence, but she was accustomed to at least some polite attention and a few admiring glances.

She took two club sodas with her after asking Garlan what Stannis was drinking, and carefully made her way over to the sofa where Stannis was sitting ramrod straight and determinedly not looking at any of the strippers.

“I don’t want a lap dance,” Stannis bit out, hardly meeting her eyes.

“That’s good,” Sansa said, feeling relieved that he did not seem to be as horny as all the other men in the club, “I’d rather not give you one after such a short acquaintance.”

This caught his attention. He looked up at her and started to blink quite fast.

“Hi,” Sansa said, pushing a lock of hair behind an ear and smiling a bit shyly, “I’m Sansa Stark.”

Stannis jumped to his feet as if the sofa had suddenly caught fire. He stuck his hand out for her to shake. She quickly put the drinks down on the table in front of the sofa and took it, feeling a bit bemused at the formality.

“Stannis Baratheon,” he said, still staring at her and blinking more frequently than was probably normal.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” Sansa said, a little surprised by how sincerely she meant her words. She _was_ pleased to meet Stannis. It was a relief to be able to sit with someone who seemed just about as eager to be in a strip club as she was. And he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes, either. All the Baratheon brothers were tall, dark and handsome, though Robert had gone to seed. Renly was the most good-looking one, of course, but Stannis was ageing gracefully. He was fit and he did not seem to be struggling to hide the fact that his hairline was receding. There was nothing less graceful than a man with a comb-over.

Willing herself not to blush, she accepted Stannis’ awkward offer to sit down.

“You were engaged to my nephew,” Stannis said after accepting the club soda Sansa had brought him with a nod.

“I was,” Sansa admitted, sipping her own drink and wondering whether she’d ever be allowed to forget that lapse in judgement.

“That was stupid of you,” Stannis said.

Sansa stared at him. Usually people tried to say something like: ‘What a shame it didn’t work out,’ or ‘how awful for you. The breakup must have been so hard.’ She didn’t really care for the pity, but she had learnt to deal with it. It was rather refreshing to hear something new.

“I know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Stannis furrowed his brow. “Why did you get engaged to him if you knew it was a stupid thing to do?”

Sansa sighed. “By the time I realised it was stupid it was too late to back out.”

“And yet you are no longer engaged,” Stannis pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“Joffrey decided I wasn’t the girl for him. He’s marrying Margaery Tyrell instead. I’m actually here for her bachelorette party.”

Both Stannis’ eyebrows rose towards his hairline. “You’re here for the bachelorette party of the woman who supplanted you?”

“Yep,” Sansa said, popping the ‘p’ and staring down at her glass. It sounded pathetic when one said it like Stannis just had. “We’re friends,” she added in explanation.

“Joffrey left you for your friend?” Stannis still sounded rather incredulous.

“You make it sound like Joffrey breaking up with me was a bad thing,” Sansa said, twisting her lips into a sardonic smile.

Stannis blinked at her for a moment before nodding curtly. “Good point.”

“I’m not jealous of Margaery, and I’m not angry with her. I - I just feel vaguely like I should _warn_ her.” Sansa hesitated for a moment before saying the last part, but it did not seem as if Stannis was very fond of his nephew. Judging by the way Stannis had spoken so far it seemed that he was perfectly aware of how beastly Joffrey could be.

Stannis nodded and Sansa got the feeling that he was waiting for her to say more.

“I have tried to tell her what he’s like, but I can’t help but feel that she’ll disregard whatever I say as a petty attempt to break them up…” Sansa took another sip of her club soda and shook her head. “Anyway, Joffrey can be nice and charming when he wants to. Maybe he’ll treat Margaery decently.”

It was strange how easy it was to tell Stannis all this. She had been keeping it locked inside for so long, not even telling her parents or her siblings, and now she was spilling everything to a near-stranger?

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Stannis asked with a grimace.

A twisting feeling in her stomach made Sansa want to hug herself around the middle. She resisted the urge. “No,” she said, her voice quiet.

“You ought to tell your friend everything,” Stannis said firmly, locking eyes with her. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“But… what if she thinks I’m just being a pathetic, single, sore loser?” Sansa bit her bottom lip and searched Stannis’ face.

“It doesn’t matter,” Stannis insisted, “her beliefs won’t change the facts of the situation.”

“But I _am_ pathetic and single,” Sansa muttered, feeling uncharacteristically sorry for herself all of a sudden. Maybe it was being in this club? She was surrounded by men who were walking around with bulges at the front of their trousers - obviously horny - and yet they didn’t even spare her a second glance.

Stannis shot her an irritated look. “Self-pity is of no use to anyone, Miss Stark.”

His harsh tone made the twisting feeling in her stomach intensify. She shot him a wounded look. Why was he being so mean?

“There’s nothing wrong or pathetic about being single,” he added, still speaking in that clipped and irritated tone of voice.

Cersei certainly seemed to think there was something wrong with Stannis for being single. But Cersei was a bitch.

Sansa squared her shoulders. “You’re right,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I should tell Margaery everything.”

Stannis’ irritation seemed to fade a little at that, though he didn’t exactly look _pleased._ “Good,” he said with a nod.

“Not now, though,” Sansa added, “I’m not going to ruin her bachelorette party.”

Stannis looked briefly at the ceiling and took a sip of his drink.

“Have you always been single?” she asked, curious about the way he had so confidently stated that there was nothing wrong with being without a significant other.

Stannis tensed up.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” he muttered, looking down at his hands.

“Just curious,” Sansa said, sticking to the truth. The next words out of her mouth escaped entirely without her permission. “Do you know that Cersei thinks it would be easier to seduce a horse than to seduce you?”

Stannis had been in the middle of emptying his glass, but Sansa’s words seemed to make him change his mind about wanting a drink, and the club soda ended up back in the glass and all over Stannis’ chin. He coughed a few times. “W-What?”

Sansa bit her lip and wondered why on earth she had shared that piece of information. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“It’s fine,” he said, wiping his face looking uncomfortable. “I can’t say I’m entirely surprised she would say something like that. She’s said similar things to my face.”

“You seemed a little surprised,” Sansa said, raising an eyebrow.

Stannis frowned and put his glass of club soda on the table, glaring at it as if it was its fault that he had ended up spitting his sip back into it. “I didn’t expect Cersei to say such things to people I’ve never even met.”

“She’s not a very nice person sometimes,” Sansa said, looking down at her hands. Several memories of Cersei’s unkind words towards her fought their way to the surface of her mind, but she pushed them away, feeling irritated. She had closed that chapter of her life.

“That’s an understatement,” Stannis muttered.

Sansa looked at Stannis and wondered why Cersei had said those things about him.

“I’m sorry if I’m being very nosy, but can I ask whether you’ve always been single because you’re not interested in finding anyone, or because the right person hasn’t come along?” She bit her lip right after she finished asking her question, wondering if she had overstepped.

Stannis stared straight into her eyes and seemed to be thinking her question over very seriously.

“I suppose it’s a bit of both,” he said at length, still keeping her gaze trapped with his own. She couldn’t look away.

Sansa caught a glimpse of a topless stripper out of the corner of one eye, and she blinked several times, looking down at her lap and blushing. If Stannis had always been single, did that mean he’d never had sex?

_Gods, Sansa. That’s none of your business. Stop thinking about it._

Of course he’d had sex. One did not have to be in a committed relationship in order to have sex.

Stannis looked like he’d be an _intense_ sex partner.

Not that she would know much about such things.

_Stop._

“So you’d consider a relationship if the right woman came along?” she blurted out, regretting her words almost at once. She sounded like she was hitting on him, didn’t she?

She watched his face anxiously, wondering if she had offended him. Thankfully he looked thoughtful rather than offended.

“I rather doubt that the sort of woman I’d be interested in would be interested in me in turn,” Stannis said slowly. He was no longer meeting his eyes. His neck looked a bit redder than it had a moment ago, though it was hard to tell due to the club’s dim lighting scheme.

“What sort of woman would you be interested in?” Sansa asked, her curiosity prompting her to speak before she had time to check herself. She just couldn’t help it.

Stannis looked at her face with suspicion and blinked several times. She tried to appear sincerely interested, hoping that he would consider answering her question even though her face was starting to feel very warm.

“Er, I suppose… I’d be interested in a grounded woman with integrity and a strong moral compass.”

Sansa’s eyes widened. She had expected him to say something about what his dream woman should look like. Instead he had described the sort of characteristics that she herself found very desirable. After Joffrey she would love to be involved with someone down to earth and honest.

“You’ve never met a woman like that?” Sansa asked, smiling at him and trying not to reveal how surprised she was that he hadn’t mentioned any physical requirements.

“I’ve met several women like that,” Stannis said, “but they’ve usually been much older than me, related to me, or already married.” He paused, seemingly thinking hard. “Or they’ve been much too religious,” he added.

“You’re not religious?” Sansa asked, tilting her head to the side after finishing the last of her club soda.

“No.”

“My father believes in one set of gods and my mother believes in another,” she told him.

“And yourself?” he asked, sounding interested.

“Well, I learned about both religions growing up,” Sansa explained, “and I think it’s all very interesting, but I’ve always considered myself more spiritual than religious.”

Stannis snorted and rolled his eyes. “Spiritual?” he repeated, his tone derisive.

She frowned, feeling a bit defensive. “Yes, do you have a problem with that?”

“It’s of no concern to me,” Stannis said, shrugging.

“Being spiritual does not mean I believe in astrology, ghosts and fortune telling,” Sansa said, pressing her lips together tightly.

“Oh?” Stannis said, looking less judgemental and more interested.

“It just means that I want to believe in the good in the human spirit, and that we’re capable of great things when we work together and treat each other with kindness and respect. It means that I can feel great peace when I light and candle and meditate, or when I do yoga, or when I see something beautiful in nature.”

Stannis nodded. “I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that,” he said grudgingly.

“Big of you to admit that there’s nothing wrong with my beliefs,” Sansa said, feeling a touch irritated with the way he was acting.

“It was not my intention to belittle you,” Stannis said, looking uncomfortable.

Sansa took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, smiling at him and trying to tell him without words that she wasn’t upset.

“I suppose now you understand why I’ve always been single,” Stannis said, his tone self-deprecating.

Sansa’s eyebrows rose. He thought his minor faux pas was the sort of thing that could drive women away from him?

“Not really,” she said, leaving it at that. If he wanted to know why she said that he’d just have to ask.

There was a long silence. Stannis was looking at her in puzzlement, and Sansa was fairly sure - despite the dim lighting - that he was flushed red.

“Would you like a fresh drink?” Stannis asked, glancing at their glasses on the table instead of at her.

“Sure,” she said, surprised that he would offer. She hoped it wouldn’t take him very long to get the drinks, however, as she didn’t like the idea of sitting by herself.

Sansa supposed that sitting alone at a club could have been worse. All the men were too busy ogling the strippers to pay her much mind, and though it was a little insulting to be ignored like that, it at least meant that no one bothered her. Still, it was uncomfortable to be alone in the middle of all the debauchery. Uncomfortable and embarrassing. When Stannis returned with two club sodas she therefore gave him the biggest and brightest smile she could manage, wishing to show him how much she appreciated his company.

Stannis looked taken aback for a moment, but after blinking a few times as if he had just had his photo taken and the flash had blinded him, he sat down.

“I spoke to some of the men who are here with me,” Stannis said as he handed her one of the glasses he had brought. “They aren’t in any hurry to leave. Do you know how long your group is planning on staying?”

Sansa shrugged and sipped her drink. “No idea. They seemed to be having the time of their lives, though.”

Stannis frowned, but he didn’t pursue the subject. They were quiet for a while.

“Do you think they’d notice if we snuck off to a nicer place?” Sansa asked after a while, tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips thoughtfully.

Stannis fixed her with a piercing look. “You’d want that?” he asked seriously.

“I think we’re better company for each other than we are for our respective groups,” Sansa said with a shrug.

“Where would you want to go?” Stannis asked, looking intrigued.

“Do you think it’s too late to catch a show?” she wondered, still feeling put out that she was in Vegas and that she wouldn’t even get to see a single Cirque du Soleil act. Much less the Britney show.

Stannis looked at his watch. “I think most of the shows have already started by now.”

Sansa sighed and tried to hide her disappointment. “I guess I’ll just have to catch Britney some other time.” It was a poor attempt at a stiff upper lip, but she tried.

“Britney?” Stannis seemed to recognise the name. It was hardly surprising, she was quite famous and had been for more than a decade. Sansa _was_ surprised to see that Stannis fished his phone out of his pocket and called someone, however. She hadn’t pegged him as someone who would be quite rude enough to start talking on the phone in the middle of a conversation.

Her surprise quickly turned to delight when she heard what the phone call was about.

“Thank you, Renly,” Stannis said, ending the call and replacing his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Apparently we can catch the end of the show if we leave now,” Stannis said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Sansa could hardly contain her excitement. She had heard enough of Stannis’ conversation with Renly to understand that Renly had a friend who could get them backstage, and it was more than Sansa could have hoped for in her wildest dreams.

“Are you serious?” Sansa’s voice came out like a squeal and she didn’t even care. “Let’s go!” she added, not waiting for an answer.


	2. A Show of Interest

Stannis had to make a brief stop at a table where a few of the men in his group were sitting, and Sansa stood a little way away. She didn’t hear exactly what Stannis said, but she could tell that he was leaving one of the men - the smiling one - in charge. Based on how wide the smiling man’s smile got, he was leaving him in charge of a lot of money, too.

It took them less time than Sansa would have expected to make their way to the venue, and Stannis mostly kept quiet during the car ride. He wasn’t precisely _smiling_ as she chatted about her love for Britney in nervous excitement, but there was something very like amusement in his eyes, and he wasn’t frowning.

They made it just in time to see the last three songs. Sansa could hardly believe how close she was to the action. There were backup dancers and people with focused, harried expressions on their faces all around. Sansa clutched her V.I.P. pass tightly and tried to keep out of everyone’s way. Stannis just stood next to her, his back straight and his expression unreadable.

After the last song had been sung, Sansa expected that she and Stannis would be leaving. She followed him in a euphoric daze, singing the chorus from the last song under her breath and probably smiling like she was on drugs.

She nearly died when it turned out that Renly had called in a favour and managed to arrange a meet and greet with the pop star, too.

It was almost too much for Sansa to handle. She had idolised Britney when she had been a little girl. When _…Baby One More Time_ was the biggest hit in the world Sansa had worn her hair in braided pigtails with feathered hair ties for three months straight.

Somehow Sansa managed to breathe and speak like a normal human being while Britney was in the room with her, but she wasn’t sure she would have been able to do it if Stannis hadn’t been there to lend the proceedings an impossibly dignified and businesslike air. He acted like he shook hands with world famous pop stars every day. Like it was no big deal, and like Britney was just another woman in a world full of women. It was easier to pretend to be a mature adult with an example like that to follow.

As soon as Britney left Sansa started to flail around and squeal, trying to get all the excitement she had bottled up during the short meet and greet out.

“She was so sweet!” Sansa exclaimed. “And _normal,_ and down to earth, and pretty!”

Stannis shook his head and started to walk towards the exit. “You’re pleased, then?”

Sansa stopped walking and Stannis came to a halt, too. He looked at her in puzzlement, clearly wondering why she wasn’t moving.

“I’m more than pleased,” Sansa said, meeting his eyes and trying to convey with her gaze how grateful she was for the way Stannis had managed to arrange this. He really hadn’t needed to do it. They barely knew each other. “No one has ever done something like this for me,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

A red tinge crawled up from Stannis’ neck towards his cheeks. He nodded curtly and started walking again, holding every door they encountered open for her.

“Where would you like to go now? Shall I call for the car?” Stannis asked when they made it outside. There was a slight chill in the dry desert air, though it was nothing compared with what Sansa had grown up with in Alaska. 

“Let’s go look at the fountain in front of the Bellagio,” Sansa suggested, noticing that they were only a short walk away. “It’s my favourite part of Ocean’s Eleven,” she told him with a smile, “when they all stand by the fountain in the end.”

“You’re talking about the remake, aren’t you?” Stannis asked. When Sansa nodded, he went on to argue that the original was a superior film, and they had a surprisingly playful argument about it. Sansa was absolutely convinced that the remake had been better, but Stannis rolled his eyes and insisted that her reasons for liking the remake were entirely ridiculous.

“A film is not inherently better because George Clooney is in it,” he said, shaking his head.

“I know that,” Sansa laughed, “I saw Batman and Robin.”

They had made it to the fountain, but Sansa didn’t spare it a glance. She was too busy checking Stannis’ face for his reaction to her words. The amused light was still in his eyes, and his face seemed to get smoother and smoother the more time they spent together. She could barely see the frown lines.

“I think you should watch the remake before you write Clooney off,” Sansa said after a while.

“I usually don’t spend a lot of time watching films.” Stannis turned to look at the fountain. Sansa kept looking at his face. There was something strangely fragile about the expression that had stolen over it.

“We could watch it now,” she suggested, feeling a bit reckless. “If you want,” she added, smiling sheepishly at him when his head snapped around. He was looking at her again, his eyes full of incredulity.

“Don’t be absurd,” he said, “where would we watch it?”

Sansa blinked at Stannis and realised that she couldn’t just take him back to her place and find her old DVD. She was very far away from home.

“Um…” She shrugged and bit her lip.

“I suppose we could ask the staff at the front desk,” Stannis said, looking thoughtful. He nodded at the Bellagio.

“Oh, that’s a good idea!” Sansa exclaimed, “I’m sure they get questions about that film all the time.”

“Let’s go, then.”

When it turned out that Stannis actually had a suite at the Bellagio, the staff at the front desk fell all over themselves to help him figure out how to watch the film in his room. Sansa hesitated for a moment before she followed Stannis to the lifts, wondering whether it was a good idea to go with a man she hardly knew to his hotel room to watch a movie.

What if he thought it meant that she was willing to _do things_ with him?

She bit her lip and stopped hesitating. Stannis was not that sort of man who made those assumptions. And even if he was, she was sure he would not pressure her if she said no.

Not that she was entirely sure she would say no if he asked. She could easily imagine kissing Stannis. Maybe even doing some _touching._

But she was getting ahead of herself. He probably wasn’t interested in her like that. She was the one who had wanted to watch a film, and he was just providing her with the opportunity to do so.

That was all.

***

Stannis was not entirely sure how he had ended up in his hotel suite, sitting on an absurdly luxurious leather sofa next to the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and watching Ocean’s Eleven on the huge flat screen TV that was mounted on the wall.

Sansa had taken her shoes off and curled up like a cat, but she wasn’t leaning on him like he had spent the past half hour hoping she would. It was a very silly thing to hope for, and Stannis really didn’t know why he was letting himself even think about it, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

Ever since she had smiled at him when he had returned to her with two club sodas he had been struggling with how to function normally around her. His exhaustion had disappeared and his heart had been beating a bit faster than usual when they had been talking before that, but it hadn’t been until that dazzling smile that he had understood that he _wanted_ her.

It had been a very jarring realisation. He very rarely became attracted to _anyone_ , and he had never in his life become attracted to someone who was so much younger than he was. She was no silly chit, however. There was something so mature and poised about the way she comported herself. The way she had reacted when he had - rather rudely - called her stupid for getting engaged to Joffrey, and the way she had talked about wanting to warn Margaery - even though the Tyrell girl had essentially supplanted Sansa - had told him more about her maturity than several in depth interrogations could have. At the same time she still retained the ability to be innocently thrilled over something like meeting a favoured singer. He had seen that when she had practically bounced up and down with joy after the meeting Britney. It had been… charming.

She was charming and he was charmed. Bewitched.

Should he try to put his arm around her? His heart pounded powerfully at the thought and he felt himself break into a sweat. Should he just… put his arm down on the top of the sofa and let it slide down until it touched her?

No. No, he couldn’t. It was a stupid idea. She was just spending time with him because the alternative was to be stuck with a group of silly women who were doing things she had no interest in doing. He could sympathise with that situation, and he did not want to make her feel unsafe or like she had to go back to them rather than stay with him for a bit longer.

“Oh, I always get so stressed out during this part!” Sansa suddenly said, interrupting his agonised thoughts. She pressed herself against him and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

Stannis had to use all of his self control to keep from hyperventilating, and thus he didn’t have any control left over to keep his arm from snaking around her shoulders. She felt _perfect._ Like she had always been meant to be his. A very base part of his brain started to wonder if it would feel equally perfect to sink into her, her long legs wrapped around him, her breasts pressed against his chest…

“Ow, what’s that?” she complained after a few seconds, making him retract his arm as if burnt.

For a panicked moment he wondered if his erection was poking into her, but then he realised he wasn’t actually hard. Nor was she touching his groin in any way. He might have become hard if he had continued to hold her and think the sort of thoughts he had been thinking, but thankfully he wasn’t quite there yet.

Sansa was poking at something beneath his jacket and Stannis realised it was his shoulder holster and his gun that had been digging into her. He shrugged his jacket off and started to unbuckle the holster. Sansa was watching him with very wide eyes.

“I have a permit for this,” he explained, wishing to put her at ease. “I used to be a navy SEAL.”

She looked relieved for a moment and then curious. “May I touch it?” she asked, biting her lip and looking much more interested in his gun than in the film they had been watching.

He tried to keep himself from reddening. A very big part of him wanted her to ask that question about his… 

About something else.

“You may. The safety is on, but don’t touch the trigger, please.” He unloaded the gun, double checked that it was unloaded and handed her the gun, making sure the barrel wasn’t pointed at either one of them. He watched her turn it this way and that in her delicate hands, and a vision of her handling _something else_ with those hands entered his head. He had to squeeze his eyes shut and think about boot camp to distract himself. 

“It’s heavy,” she said, blinking up at him a bit uncertainly.

“Not really,” he said, thinking of the much heavier firearms he had used in the past.

“Well, you’re stronger than me, aren’t you?” Sansa said, carefully handing his piece back and smiling.

Stannis nodded. That much was obvious.

“Why do you have it on?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Because one never knows what sort of trouble a group of drunken men can get themselves into. I thought it would be better to be safe than sorry. This city can be a dangerous place.”

“Well, I hope you won’t need it in here,” Sansa said, lightening the mood and tentatively leaning close to him again. “It’s more comfortable when you don’t wear it.”

Stannis swallowed and worked up the courage to place his arm back around her shoulders. She clearly wanted to be held for whatever reason, and he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

They watched the film in silence for a while, and Sansa buried her face in the crook of her neck when anything very tense happened on screen. Stannis wondered how she would act if they were to watch a horror film if a relatively tame story about a heist unnerved her like that.

“Stannis?” Sansa asked when about twenty minutes remained of the film.

“Mm?”

“My dress is a little uncomfortable. Could I borrow something else to wear?”

Stannis stopped breathing. Was she… ? No, she couldn’t be…

“Of course,” he paused the film and stood up. Sansa followed him to the bedroom. His heart was beating so hard that he felt a little lightheaded.

He hadn’t really had time to unpack properly, so most of his things were still in his suitcase. He quickly dug out the cotton pyjama bottoms and the well worn T-shirt with the navy SEAL logo he usually slept in.

“Will that do?” he asked, trying to remember if he had bothered to have his sleepwear washed before he had packed it. He had been very pressed for time…

“This is perfect, thank you,” she smiled sweetly and accepted the bundle from him.

He stared at her for a while and noticed that her expression became a bit confused.

“Um, should I change in here? Or the en suite… ?”

Stannis realised she had been waiting for him to leave so that she might take her clothes off in peace. He felt his face heat up and he hurriedly headed for the door. “In here is fine, I’ll be outside on the sofa.”

The next five minutes were extremely hard. Stannis had to sit still and try not to think about the fact that a girl he was intensely attracted to was stripping in his bedroom, and that she would then be putting _his_ sleepwear on. The part of him that was already imagining what it would feel like to have sex with her was trying to convince the rest of him that she had clearly been trying to invite him to make a move, but he refused to believe it. That part of him was consistently stupid. It was generally always best to just ignore it.

When Sansa emerged things became even harder -- in more than one way. It was completely and utterly arousing to see her wearing his things

Sansa curled up beside him, leaning against him just like she had before, acting as if she hadn’t just made him forget everything except how much he wanted her.

Would she like it if he pulled her into his lap, kissed her with everything he had and buried his hands in her beautiful hair?

 _Just watch the film, Stannis,_ he told himself, clenching his jaw tightly.

What came next were the longest twenty minutes of Stannis’ life. Sansa was warm and cuddly, and she seemed to want nothing more than to make him aware of the fact that she was not wearing a bra. Her hair smelled like something fresh and sweet, and her skin was softer than any fine silk Stannis had ever touched. Sitting still on a comfortable sofa with Sansa’s warm body pressed against him and the film playing in front of him was both causing his body to remember that he hadn’t slept for a long time, while simultaneously being reminded that he hadn’t slept _with_ anyone for a long time. He felt aroused and sleepy and muddled, and he was very concerned that if he didn’t regain his focus soon he might do or say something regrettable. 

“I love that scene,” Sansa sighed as the shot of the fountain in front of the Bellagio faded to black. She ignored the screen as it started to show Danny Ocean being released from prison.

“It’s a good scene,” Stannis agreed, his voice very hoarse.

“Thanks for watching the film with me and for lending me your clothes,” she said, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “You really didn’t have to.”

“It was only fair,” he said, “I needed to see the film in order to accurately judge whether the original is better.”

Sansa smiled brightly, and Stannis felt another tug of desire for her. He had never felt this sort of pull towards a woman after such a short acquaintance. Never.

“And what’s the verdict?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and biting her lip. Was she flirting with him? Or was he imagining things?

“The original is much better,” Stannis said, his tone dry, “just as I expected.”

Sansa laughed. It was unforced and natural, and Stannis could have listened to it for _hours._

“Next time we see each other we should watch it,” Sansa said, meeting his eyes and looking a bit uncertain. It was a little like she was asking him a question, but Stannis wasn’t sure what the question was.

Should he suggest watching it now? He doubted he’d be able to stand watching another film with her cuddled up to him. He’d end up assaulting her. He settled for nodding, unable to get any words out.

“I mean it, though,” she said after a few beats, “I’m really grateful for how willing you’ve been to do things I wanted to do tonight. Watch what I wanted to watch.” She smiled at him for a moment, but it faded from her face much too soon. “I usually always have to win some sort of battle or argument to get my way. Especially with my sister. And when I do get my way I usually have to listen to her complain through the whole film!”

Stannis huffed out an amused breath. Her sister reminded him of Robert. He decided to tell her a little of his childhood with his older brother, and was surprised at how willing she was to listen and at how she just seemed to _understand_ him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised. When she told him her own stories in return, he understood her perfectly.

He felt like they were completely in tune with one another.

They talked for a long time, somehow ending up sharing things that he was certain they never would have shared with just _anyone._ He told her about the bird he had rescued as a child, how he had tried to teach it to fly, and how his brother had eventually discouraged him to the extent of having his loyal friend put down. He regretted it to this day. Proudwing had not been able to fly properly just like Robert had loved to point out, but that bird had loved him. 

Sansa told him about her pet husky in return. She had been called Lady and had not even been fully grown when Arya and Arya’s dog Nymeria got into a fight with Joffrey. Joffrey had been bitten by Nymeria and Cersei had not been satisfied until both Nymeria and Lady had been put down.

“I should have known then that Joffrey was a bad guy,” Sansa sighed, cuddling closer to Stannis on the sofa as if searching for some sort of physical reassurance or comfort, “I wish I hadn’t been so blinded by my stupid crush on him.”

“We all do stupid things when we’re young,” Stannis murmured, tentatively tightening his hold on her. She sighed with something that sounded rather like pleasure, and Stannis had to clench his jaw very tightly and think very hard about boot camp.

They were both silent for a while, and Stannis wondered what time it was. Long past midnight, probably. His eyelids were screaming at him, wanting to remain closed and get some rest, but he was too wired to even think about trying to sleep. And it would be rude to go to sleep with Sansa there.

Anyway, she was wearing his sleepwear.

“I love that we’re actually at the Bellagio,” Sansa sighed, obviously attempting to lighten the mood. “I feel like I’ve had an amazing Vegas experience tonight.”

Stannis didn’t trust his voice, so he just hummed.

“I went to a strip club, saw Britney, and watched Ocean’s Eleven at the Bellagio. Now all I need to do is get married at a drive-through chapel and I’ll have done it all!” She threw her head back and laughed again in that natural, unaffected way.

It was unnerving how much he wanted her.

She stopped laughing much too soon, looking a bit sheepish. “Don’t look at me that way, I didn’t _mean_ it.”

Stannis tried to make his face go blank.

“I don’t think I could ever just get married on a whim, could you?”

“Not on a whim,” Stannis managed, unable to keep from staring into her eyes. His defences were practically nonexistent due to his exhaustion, and he was probably showing more of his desire than he should.

“Every person in my life would probably have a stroke if I did something reckless like get married in Vegas,” Sansa continued, sounding amused, “or maybe they wouldn’t have strokes. Maybe they just wouldn’t believe me, because ‘Sansa Stark would never do such an irresponsible thing’.” She changed her voice a bit at the end as if she were speaking as someone else and rolled her eyes.

Stannis snorted. He could identify with that. If _he_ were to get married in Vegas he doubted anyone would believe it, either.

“They’d all be surprised if they bothered to get to know me properly,” she whispered, meeting his gaze and lifting her chin a little.

“Oh?” he rasped, feeling entranced.

“I can be brave,” she declared. As soon as she finished speaking she took a deep breath and closed the distance between their faces, pressing her lips against his in a gentle kiss.

It was the most amazing, frightening and _thrilling_ moment of his life, and he froze for several seconds before his brain caught up with what was happening.

Sansa Stark was kissing him.

Scratch that. She _had_ been kissing him. She was now moving her wonderfully soft lips away, and he still hadn’t had a chance to kiss her back because he was an _idiot._

He unfroze before she managed to pull back completely, caught her face with a hand, and held her still as he moved to kiss her back. Feeling her lips again was even better now that he wasn’t in a state of shock, and he allowed himself to enjoy every single aspect of pressing his lips to hers. The closeness, the scent of the air she exhaled, the perfect pressure of it... It took an enormous amount of willpower to keep the kiss chaste, and as soon as Sansa parted her lips he lost all control and started to explore her mouth with his tongue, inviting her to do the same and hoping that she was enjoying the taste as much as he was.

When she moaned into his mouth he felt reassured that she was definitely enjoying herself, and he decided to take a risk and encourage her to climb onto his lap. He tried to do it in a way that was not coercive, and was pleased when she responded by straddling him eagerly.

She started to kiss his neck and rub herself against his erection at the same time, and he groaned at the pleasurable sensations. He stroked her back with the flat of his palms, moving up and down and resisting the temptation to drag the T-shirt - that would hopefully smell like her after this - up and over her head. He could not quite resist the temptation to push his hands underneath the fabric and touch the small of her back, however. She was searing hot, and fucking _hell_ , how soft were her breasts if the small of her back felt like _that?_

The thought of touching her breasts made him emit an embarrassingly needy moan, and he hoped it wouldn’t put Sansa off. Judging by the way she was still rubbing herself against his erection he didn’t think it had.

“May I?” he asked after a while, tugging on her borrowed T-shirt and desperately hoping that she would let him undress her.

“Um, okay,” Sansa said, sounding a little shy, but very willing, too.

He was too tired to make doubly sure. He wanted the T-shirt off and she had given him permission. His exhausted, sexually charged brain could not handle analysing the situation any more closely.

“Jesus,” he hissed when he had successfully removed the shirt. Her breasts were works of art. Young, perky and perfectly round. Gorgeous, milk-white, _generous_ handfuls. Pink, stiff little nipples. When he palmed them they were much softer than he had imagined. He didn’t have the capacity to imagine such utter softness. She mewled when he ran his thumbs over the pebbled nipples, and the sound went straight to his cock. “ _Jesus,_ ” he repeated, feeling overwhelmed.

“I thought you weren’t religious,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer. He just looked into her eyes and claimed her lips again. He might not be religious, but he could easily believe that she was some sort of celestial being as he ran his hands all over her exposed upper body. She was incredibly responsive, moaning and writhing in response to his every touch, kissing him back with a passion that he had rarely experienced from a woman.

Eventually her writhing drove him to distraction. He placed his hands at her waist and made her stand up. Without asking whether it was okay he pulled at the loose waistband, dragging it down over her hips and thighs. He heard Sansa inhale loudly and looked up at her, wondering if he had crossed a line.

She was blushing like she’d never been naked in front of a man, but Stannis knew that couldn’t be accurate. Not at her age. Not after being _engaged._

“Okay?” he rasped, letting the loose pyjama bottoms fall to the floor. He did his very best to look at her face and not at the patch of close-cropped red hair that was right in front of his face.

“Um,” she said, sounding nervous, “yeah. I - I think so.”

If he had been functioning on more sleep he might have realised that was not the enthusiastic yes he should really obtain.

He buried his nose in that tempting patch of hair, enjoying the way Sansa squealed and rested her hands on his shoulders. He moved his hands between her thighs and pushed until she stood with her legs parted, giving him the access he wanted. He wouldn’t be able to get her off in this position, but he’d be able to taste her, and that was all he wanted to do for now. He ran his tongue along her silky soft folds and lingered at the source of the tangy, salty taste of her.

She gasped and squeezed his shoulders.

He couldn’t lick at her for very long before his neck started to hurt, so he pulled back after a short while.

Feeling like he might overheat or pass out if he kept his cock constrained for much longer, he fumbled with his belt and the fly of his trousers. Sansa’s wide eyes only made him more excited to get himself free. She looked very interested in what he was doing, though her virginal blush was still staining her cheeks, her neck and her chest.

Her lips parted and she made a small, slightly awed “oh,” that he probably shouldn’t have enjoyed as much as he did when his erection finally sprang up, released from his boxer briefs due to an impatient movement of his shaking hands.

It took two deep breaths to get his hands to steady. He reached one out towards her, inviting her to sit back down on the sofa with him. She looked skittish, embarrassed and excited all at once, and was quick to nestle up to him, her hand tentatively moving towards his exposed and needy cock.

He groaned when she made contact. Her fingers were gentle as she explored his length with an almost innocent sort of curiosity. He watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, the pleasure of her touch making it hard for him to breathe very evenly.

Her eyes flew back and forth between his face and his groin. She watched in fascination as her hand toyed with his cock and his balls, but when she looked at his face she looked nervous -- as if she weren’t sure whether she was allowed to take such liberties. He couldn’t say much. He felt paralysed and like his mouth was full of cotton. Hopefully her nerves would settle when she realised he wasn’t lifting a finger to stop her; when she realised she was allowed.

“Yes,” he managed to hiss when she finally started to grip him more confidently.

As handjobs went it was only middling, but it was made _spectacular_ by the knowledge of _who_ was touching him. It was made phenomenal due to the way Sansa watched him with her big blue eyes and bit her lip uncertainly.

By the way she _blushed._

Stannis had never thought he was the type to be turned on by a woman acting all innocent and virginal, but it sure as hell worked on him now.

After a while he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to be inside of her. He wanted to know if his fantasies about how perfect she would feel around him would come true. Stannis was fairly sure they would.

It didn’t take much effort to get her underneath him. She was tall, but she was slender and pliable, and he was strong. It took him about ten seconds to get her into position and nudge her thighs apart to accommodate him.

He was in the middle of groaning at the delicious sensation of rubbing his cock against her slick folds when he realised that she had tensed up and frozen.

It was one of the harder things he’d had to do in his life, but he stopped trying to get the head of his cock lined up with her warm entrance and looked at her face.

She was staring up at him with an anxious expression.

That was not good.

“What’s wrong?” he rasped, trying to figure out where they had fallen off the same page.

“I - I - um,” Sansa stammered, looking embarrassed and more anxious by the minute. She was a bit less tense now that he had stopped trying to push the head of his cock inside of her, however. “I’ve never done this,” she blurted out.

Stannis blinked at her for a short moment that felt much longer. Then, feeling a little as if he had been electrocuted, he got off her. They both sat up, and Stannis pulled the cotton of his underwear over the erection was still quite ready to go. It hadn’t received the memo yet.

“I’m sorry, I - I didn’t realise,” Stannis said, feeling very awkward. Sansa was nearing her mid twenties, wasn’t she? She had been _engaged._

Sansa had found his T-shirt and put it on. It was long on her, and covered everything. “I always told Joffrey I wanted to wait until marriage.” Her voice was quiet and subdued.

Stannis couldn’t help but feel pleased that Joffrey hadn’t had his grubby hands on her, but he also felt very chagrined when he realised how badly he had been treating Sansa. If he had known she had never had sex he would have tried to be more careful with her.

“Anyway, shouldn’t we discuss birth control and things like that before we… um,” Sansa was blushing bright red and looking at her hands. She had folded them in her lap in a very ladylike way. It looked incongruous due to the fact that she was only wearing an old T-shirt.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Stannis immediately said, meaning it even though his erection was refusing to go away.

“I’d like to,” Sansa whispered, giving him a shy look. “I liked what you were doing… it was just a bit fast.”

“But aren’t you waiting for marriage?” Stannis asked, feeling confused.

“Oh,” Sansa blinked at him, looking surprised that he would ask her that. “I -”

He didn’t let her finish.

“We could get married,” he said, feeling impetuous for the first time in his life. Then, because he didn’t want Sansa to think that he would only be marrying her so that he could stick his cock in her, he hurried to explain himself. “I know it probably seems insane to you as we’ve only just met, but I have never felt this way about any other woman.”

His heart was pounding in his throat, and he looked at her with a mixture of hope and fear, feeling more vulnerable than he had allowed himself to feel since he was a child.

It hadn’t been the most romantic or the most traditional proposal, and he didn’t have a ring, but he meant every word of it. He’d marry her if she’d have him. She’d be crazy to want him, but he couldn’t help but hope she’d say yes anyway.


	3. Going to the Chapel

When Stannis had asked whether she wasn’t waiting for marriage Sansa had tried to tell him that she had only fed Joffrey that line so that she wouldn’t have to tolerate his advances. She was perfectly willing to see where things went with Stannis, though she’d prefer to go step by step and have a lot of foreplay. She knew that she would need a lot of attention before she’d be ready to go all the way.

That was why she had tensed up and frozen when she had thought he was about to try to thrust his way in. She had been quite wet, but she had only ever had two fingers inside at most, and she was fairly sure she’d need to be stretched out a bit before being… divided and conquered.

But Stannis hadn’t let her get the words out. Instead he had proposed.

Stannis Baratheon, the unseducable uncle of her previous finacé wanted to _marry her._ He said he had never felt like this about any other woman.

How was she supposed to answer that?

“Okay,” her lips decided to say.

Had she just agreed to get married? After knowing a man for less than a day? Was she crazy?

Stannis was giving her a searching look that seemed to go through her like an X-ray. She squirmed a bit, feeling both aroused and a little off balance.

The more she thought about it, the less crazy she felt. She had known Joffrey since she was a child, and that hadn’t meant that getting engaged to him had been safe or smart.

She hadn’t felt what she was feeling now when Joffrey had proposed. She hadn’t felt the intense connection she had started to feel with Stannis. She had only had a crush that had been based on an idea. A fantasy.

She probably knew Stannis better after a single evening than she had known Joffrey after _years._

Stannis was everything she could want in a man. There was nothing false about him, nothing pretentious or _wrong._ He hadn’t been afraid to let her in or allow her to see his vulnerable underbelly. He had been honest about his past, had shared stories about his difficult relationship with his brother, the sad story about the bird he had found and tried to teach to fly, had spoken to her and - more importantly - _listened_ to her like he _trusted_ her. Like he respected her.

It had all worked to make him a more and more attractive person to her, and she had already been rather entranced by him.

She wanted to become intimate with him. She had tried to make him understand that by asking to borrow his sleepwear - sleepwear that smelled just like him and had made her go a bit weak at the knees when she had put it on - and by pretending to be a lot more anxious about the film than she had really been, just so that she could cuddle up to him and bury her face in the crook of his neck. She had even asked to touch his gun, even though she had always been a bit afraid of guns. It had just seemed to be a sort of sexy and flirtatious thing to do, and he had made her feel like it was safe.

He made her feel safe.

… And very turned on.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse and his eyes intense.

“Yes,” she said, able to meet his piercing gaze with a steady, confident look.

Her gut was telling her that this would not be a mistake.

Stannis stood up and finished doing his fly up properly. Sansa bit her lip to prevent a sound from escaping when he buckled his belt. There was something very attractive about watching a man handle his belt. Once he was done he looked fairly presentable. He’d just need to straighten his tie and put on a jacket and he’d be ready to go.

“I’ll go put on my dress.”

“Wait,” he said, “let me call the front desk. They might be able to arrange for more suitable attire for us. And help us with a few other things. You want us to have wedding bands, don’t you? What’s your ring size? Your dress size?”

Sansa felt herself blush, but she nodded and gave him her sizes. It was attractive on many levels to watch Stannis take charge and start planning their wedding like some kind of special op.

He was on the phone for a while, and Sansa watched him pace around the luxurious living room of the suite, his brow furrowed and his words clipped.

What came next was a whirlwind. A straight-faced member of the hotel’s staff arrived with a white dress for her and a tux for Stannis. A friendly girl from the hotel’s spa and salon arrived with a case of makeup.

“Not too much,” Sansa asked, looking at the contents of the case in dismay.

Another member of staff appeared with plain gold wedding bands.

“We’ll switch them out for something better later,” Stannis promised, even though they looked perfectly beautiful to Sansa.

The dress was simple, classic and very pretty, just like the tasteful bridal lingerie that had accompanied it. It was nothing like the many-layered monstrosity Cersei had wanted her to wear for the wedding that had never happened, and the lingerie was nothing like the obscenely complex and uncomfortable-looking garments Joffrey had wanted her to wear for their wedding night. Sansa felt comfortable in the modest dress, and she liked that even though it covered her quite well, the fabric clung to her in a way that made her feel feminine and attractive. There was even a pretty veil that clipped to the hair at the back of her head and spilled over her loose waves and down to the middle of her back.

Sansa slipped into the plain white pumps that had arrived with the dress and stared at herself in the mirror, wanting to see the full effect of her bridal ensemble.

She looked surprisingly good. It was certainly more than Sansa had expected at well past three in the morning in Vegas.

“There’s something missing,” the makeup girl said, furrowing her brow. “I know!” she said after a moment, leaving the bedroom where Sansa had been getting ready and returning after a moment carrying some of the fresh flowers that had been arranged in vases in the living room. “A bouquet,” she said, handing Sansa the flowers. The stems were still a bit wet, but the flowers were beautiful. Roses and freesias.

“If you had been in touch with the hotel a month in advance we could have made all the arrangements and had a proper bouquet all ready,” she said apologetically, looking a bit nervous.

“This is perfect,” Sansa assured her, smiling at the girl before looking back at her reflection. With the flowers in her hands she looked every inch the bride.

“Great, I’ll take you to the Fountain Courtyard. Your groom will meet you there,” the girl said with a bright smile.

Sansa’s bridal look barely turned heads as the girl led her through the hotel to the Fountain Courtyard. This was Las Vegas, and brides were a dime a dozen. Still, more men looked at her now than at the strip club, and nearly every woman glanced at her dress.

The Fountain Courtyard was beautiful, and there was a lovely view of Little Paris. A tired looking officiator met with her and told her that Stannis would be joining them momentarily. Apparently there had been some paperwork to sort out. Sansa suspected that the paper involved was the sort of paper that had dead presidents on it. She was sure that the Bellagio did not arrange weddings in the middle of the night for free.

Feeling sleep-deprived and a little giddy, Sansa asked whether it would be possible for her to stand on the other side of a nearby fountain until Stannis arrived so that she would be able to surprise him a little. He still hadn’t seen her in her white dress. 

The officiator nodded distractedly. “If you like.”

Sansa’s stomach filled with butterflies and her heart raced as she waited, keeping an eye on the path she had used to get to the place where the officiator stood and yawned.

Was she really doing this? Getting married in the middle of the night in Vegas? To a man she had met less than five hours ago? None of her family with her, and none of her friends?

The questions swirled around her head, but instead of making her feel doubt about her decision they only made her feel more determined.

When Stannis arrived in his tux, with a bored looking man carrying an expensive camera following him, Sansa’s stomach started doing flips.

_My husband-to-be._

“Where is my fiancée?” he asked the officiator, looking irritated. “She was supposed to be here by now.”

Sansa stepped out from her hiding spot and cleared her throat. Stannis looked around and straight at her, and she felt her cheeks tingle and her breath hitch at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as his eyes swept over her. She heard the bored man’s camera clicking, but she ignored it.

“Shall we… uh, shall we begin?” he asked, his voice very hoarse. He looked uncertain for the first time since he had started to plan the wedding.

Sansa nodded. “You look very handsome,” she told him as she took her place beside him. It was true. He filled his tux out very nicely, his broad shoulders and tapered waist emphasised.

Stannis did not seem to know how to take the compliment. His neck reddened and he cleared his throat.

The ceremony was short and sweet. It felt odd to kiss Stannis in front of the officiator and the camera, but only for the first second. She forgot everything when Stannis touched his hand to her cheek and encouraged her to tilt her head to the side so that he could kiss her a bit more deeply. She felt warm all the way down to her toes when he started stroking her tongue with his while his thumb ran from her cheekbone to her jaw, and she wrapped her arms around his neck in return, trying to show him that she wanted him close. It wasn’t messy or obscene, but it was passionate and very romantic. The perfect kiss for a wedding.

“Great job,” the bored cameraman said. “Now stand over here so I can get a shot with little Paris in the background.”

Sansa smiled at the camera, but mostly she smiled at Stannis. She could hardly believe that he had thought of bringing a photographer. How on earth had he managed it?

She felt dizzy and rather like her head was full of Champagne bubbles as she signed her name to the legal documents, hardly able to take her eyes off the ring on her finger for long enough to check whether she was signing the right dotted line. It glinted in the soft lights of the courtyard.

It was all over in less than ten minutes, and Sansa thought it was completely surreal that it was so easy to completely change the course of a life. Two lives. If someone had told her yesterday that she would be married within twenty-four hours she would have laughed at them.

“Mazel tov,” the officiator said before marching off, presumably to get some sleep. Or maybe he had more weddings to attend?

“What do we do now?” Sansa asked, looking at Stannis and biting her lip.

“What would you like to do?” he asked, his tone perfectly serious.

“I suppose we should go back to your suite,” Sansa said, her blush deepening. She felt a little like she was propositioning him, and it made her nervous.

Stannis nodded quickly and offered her his arm. It was a very old-fashioned gesture, but Sansa loved the romance of it and hurried to tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow. She felt less nervous as they started to make their way to Stannis’ suite.

Sansa caught a few men casting jealous looks in Stannis’ direction on the way, and she wondered if he noticed it. She doubted it. Even though they had only known each other for a short time, Sansa felt absolutely certain that Stannis had not married her for her looks alone. A man of his status and wealth could have married a pretty girl at any point, and the fact that he hadn’t, the fact that he had remained single rather than settle for a woman whose character he did not approve of, made Sansa feel like Stannis had married her for much more than the jealous glances he could inspire with her on his arm.

Her heart started to beat faster and faster the closer they go to his suite, and Sansa couldn’t stop thinking about what was most likely about to happen.

Sex.

 _God._ Was she ready for it?

By the time Stannis was swiping his keycard and getting the door to his lavish suite open, Sansa could barely hear anything except the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears.

“Oh!” Sansa exclaimed when Stannis surprised her by clearing his throat, muttering something that she couldn’t make out and picking her up. She felt as if her stomach had been left behind where she had been standing. “Stannis,” she said, not quite knowing whether to giggle or scold him, “what are you doing?”

He carried her across the threshold and put her down very carefully.

“Er, it’s tradition, isn’t it?” he said, shrugging a little awkwardly before turning to close the door behind them.

“I guess so,” she said, smiling at him and feeling a thrill of excitement. It was her wedding night, and her husband had just carried her across the threshold. She doubted Joffrey could have managed it with his noodle arms. But she didn’t want to think about Joffrey. She looked around for a suitable distraction and her eyes landed on a fancy bucket of ice with an even fancier bottle of Champagne in it. Two crystal Champagne flutes stood near it and rose petals had been scattered on the table.

“Shall we toast our wedding?” she asked, casting Stannis a curious look. Had he arranged for the bottle to wait for them?

“I suppose that’s tradition, too,” Stannis said, shrugging again. His voice was low and graveled, and Sansa was suddenly reminded of every jolt of pleasure he had made her feel before she had put a stop to their sexual exploration. Heat pooled low in her belly, and she had to resist the urge to press her thighs together tightly.

“Would you mind if I opened it?” Sansa asked, shooting Stannis a hopeful look. She rarely drank, but her mother always used to let her open the Champagne bottle on New Year’s Eve because Sansa loved making the cork pop. There was just something so glamorous and exciting about the sound.

Stannis made a hand gesture that said: ‘by all means’, and Sansa smiled widely at him.

His eyes darkened noticeably in response to her smile, and he held himself very still. A pleasurable shiver ran down Sansa’s spine, but she ignored it and went to work on the bottle.

The pop was just as satisfying as Sansa had hoped, and she poured a little taste into the two flutes that had been left out for them.

“To us,” she said, clinking her glass with Stannis’, blushing as she met his dark eyes.

“To us,” he repeated, taking a small sip without tearing his gaze from her face.

As soon as the flutes were safely back on the table Stannis was kissing her. It was every bit as messy and obscene as it hadn’t been in the Fountain Courtyard, and even more passionate. His tongue was everywhere, exploring every inch of her mouth, and he sucked and nibbled on her lower lip like he wanted to do much more than taste her. It was a little like Stannis was himself a bottle of Champagne that had been shaken rather vigorously, and now the cork had been popped and his ardour could not be contained.

Sansa tried to give as good as she got, but in the end she mostly clung to him and did her best not to obstruct his access to her mouth, her throat and her collarbones. The skin of his face had been shaved smooth, but it was still rougher than her own, and she knew she’d end up looking a bit red after this. She didn’t care. Her senses were overloading, and when she heard moans it took her a while to realise they were coming from herself.

“Bedroom?” Stannis asked after a while, sounding out of breath.

Sansa felt herself blush, but she nodded. Her insides felt like they were being squeezed and she was frantically trying to remember everything she had ever read about how to make her first time enjoyable. For a while she had stopped trying to gather information about it because she had lost all hope that Joffrey would be amenable to even trying to make her first time good for her, but she could still remember some of the basics.

“We can just go to sleep,” Stannis said, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind one of her ears. He looked absolutely sincere. “I did not marry you to get between your legs.”

Sansa felt the urge to laugh, but she contained herself. “What if I want you between my legs?” she asked, her voice coming out in a whisper. She had meant to sound playful and flirtatious, but she had ended up sounding much too serious.

Stannis met her eyes. “It’s completely up to you.” He sounded very solemn.

Sansa squared her shoulders and nodded. She knew where the bedroom was so she started to walk towards it, her insides still feeling a little squeezed.

Was she really about to do this?


	4. A Night to Remember

Her makeshift bouquet lay abandoned on the floor where they had been kissing.

As soon as she stepped into the bedroom she couldn’t help but draw in a surprised breath. The room had been transformed. It was dimly lit by little electric lights that flickered like candles. They had been scattered everywhere, along with red rose petals. The petals made the bed look romantic and inviting, and the red colour contrasted beautifully with the snow white duvets.

“It’s lovely,” she breathed, turning to smile at Stannis. “Did you arrange all this?”

“Not really,” he said, looking around with mild curiosity. It did not take him very long to start focusing on her again, however, and Sansa felt a very strong need to lie down after a few moments of having him look at her in such an intense way.

Sansa reminded herself that she was brave. “Could you help me with the zipper?” she asked, lowering her lashes and looking up at him in a way that hopefully came off as seductive. Based on the way Stannis inhaled, causing his nostrils to flare, it worked.

“Turn around,” he rasped.

She looked at him for a second or two, enjoying the way his gaze burned, but then she did as he asked.

Her heart hammered powerfully against her rib cage as Stannis’ hands touched her lightly, searching for the zipper. When he found it she drew in a breath and held it in, wondering whether he’d do it quickly and efficiently, or whether he’d use the opportunity to touch her.

He went slowly. Dragging the zipper down and touching the bare skin he revealed with the tips of his fingers. He lingered where her bra was fastened, slipping a finger underneath the lace and stroking gently.

“Oh,” she sighed, “don’t stop.”

He stroked her back a few more times, but then he continued his work at the zipper, opening her dress completely. It didn’t fall to the floor as she was still wearing the sleeves, but even if it had been strapless it would not have fallen down. It clung too tightly to her hips for that.

Stannis pushed at the sleeves in a questioning way and she encouraged him to push them down off her shoulders, freeing her arms. She did not object when he went on to pull the fabric down, easing it over her hips and allowing it to fall away from her body, pooling at her feet.

She did not know why her heart was pounding so hard. He had already seen her naked.

With a lightning quick movement she stepped out of the dress, crouched down and picked it up. “I don’t want it to get wrinkled,” she explained, looking at Stannis for the first time since he had started to undress her.

He looked starved and his eyes were burning more intensely than ever before.

Sansa threw the dress onto a hanger as quickly as she could, feeling highly aware of Stannis’ eyes on her. The bridal lingerie she was wearing was a very simple set: a lacy white bra, lacy white panties, and stockings with a matching lace top that stayed up on their own. No blue garter. She doubted she would have felt any sexier in the complicated corsetry Joffrey had wanted. With Stannis looking at her like he was she would have felt sexy wearing leaves glued to strategic places and a tea cosy on her head.

She couldn’t help but smile at the silly mental image.

“You… you’re sure?” Stannis asked, bringing her back to herself.

“Are you?” she asked, raising her chin in challenge.

Stannis started to shed his clothes in response, shrugging his jacket off and tearing impatiently at his bowtie.

Sansa got on the bed while he struggled with his complicated formalwear, watching him with avid interest and feeling more and more excited the more clothes he took off. This was a lot more interesting than the strip show she had watched with Margaery and the others.

Sansa was having a hard time remembering to breathe by the time he was down to his boxer briefs.

If he had been that naked when he had been trying to have sex with her earlier she would not have been able to find the willpower to stop him. She would have spread her legs wide and just hoped that it wouldn’t hurt too much and that she wouldn’t get pregnant.

 _Oh, god…_

He had the body of an Olympic athlete. A swimmer. Definitely a swimmer. Not too much bulk, but clearly defined muscles and smooth, hard planes. He had more hair than swimmers typically had, though. His pectorals were covered, and there was a dark trail that led from his navel to his groin. She remembered catching a glimpse of the wiry black curls at the base of his cock, and she hoped he would not think it was very weird that she was interested in touching them.

It took an embarrassing amount of effort to drag her eyes from the bulge at the front of his boxers and up to his face. He was still looking at her like he wanted to eat her whole.

“May I join you?” he murmured, walking towards the bed. She nodded enthusiastically and budged over to make room for him. She needn’t have bothered. The bed was _huge._

He looked at her with a slightly pained expression once he was sitting near her and opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out and he closed it again..

Sansa waited patiently for him to figure out what he wanted to say.

“You look beautiful,” he finally managed, his voice very strained.

Sansa felt her face heat up and she ducked her head. It was the most basic of compliments, but coming from him it felt like a Shakespearean sonnet. “Thank you,” she said, remembering her manners.

He unclenched a little, looking more at ease now that he had managed to successfully compliment her.

They ended up on their sides, facing each other. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing as he started to stroke her hair, his fingers trailing down to her face and finally landing on her neck.

“Mmhm,” she hummed, closing her eyes and parting her lips in a way she hoped looked inviting.

He kissed her. It was slower than before, more deliberate. He didn’t try to pull her closer or press himself against her, but something about the way he was moving his lips over hers, dipping his tongue inside her mouth and caressing her neck, made her do the work for him. She needed to feel his skin against her own, and she wanted to see if he’d react to having her breasts pressed to his chest. She wanted to use her free hand to stroke the bulge she had practically been hypnotised by before, and she wanted him to make some kind of sound when she did it.

He moaned and his hips bucked as soon as her hand closed over his hot erection. His reaction to her touch spurred her on, and she took a deep breath, grateful that Stannis was now licking her neck ( _god_ ) and not making it hard for her to access the oxygen that she needed. Her hand went underneath the waistband of the boxer briefs, and she found his cock, hard, heavy and even hotter now that she was touching it directly. The excitement of it was almost too much and she squirmed and tried to imagine what it would feel like inside of her.

“Jesus, Sansa,” Stannis groaned against her neck, stilling and tensing beside her.

“Is it good?” she asked, feeling nervous, thrilled, adventurous and more than a little sleep deprived. She was usually in bed by eleven and it was now the middle of the night.

He nodded, a jerky movement that he repeated more often than necessary. His breaths were fast and shallow. The veins on his neck were sticking out a little alarmingly. “More,” he gasped out. “Please.”

Hearing the need and desire in his voice made another flood of heat move through her, and she felt moisture collecting between her thighs, her body trying to do everything in its power to get her ready.

She tried to do as he asked, wrapping her hand tightly around the shaft of his cock and moving up and down experimentally. “Is it okay?” She was worried she was gripping him too tightly. She hadn’t liked to touch Joffrey and he had always been more interested in humiliating her in new and interesting ways than in trying to get her to change her mind. That mostly left Sansa with experience touching herself, and she had always preferred a gentle touch.

“Yes,” Stannis said, still breathless, “yes.”

It was uncomfortable to try to touch him with her hand down his underwear, so she encouraged him to lie on his back and tugged hopefully on the material of his boxers. He immediately helped her get them off, and practically pulled her hand back to his jutting erection the second he was naked.

She got to her knees and sat back on her heels so that she would be able to watch him as she did her best to learn how he liked to be touched, and he looked up at her through slitted eyelids, his face flushed and his chest moving rapidly up and down. She was only holding his cock loosely at the moment, so she felt it quite well when it suddenly _jumped._

“Oh,” she said, blinking at him and blushing. “It moved.”

She saw the muscles in his jaw working. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice husky.

With a determined nod and a steadying breath Sansa started to touch him with a bit more confidence. He closed his eyes and moaned when she figured out how to move her hand up and down, dragging the skin that covered the head back and forth. It was very interesting, but highly bizarre.

“Am I doing it right?” she asked, anxious to know whether she could be doing something better.

She only got a strangled moan in response, but his hand suddenly wrapped around hers, making her grip his cock even _tighter_ and then moving her up and down much faster than before. She watched Stannis’ face and observed the way he was furrowing his brow and parting his lips, his expression both pained and ecstatic.

After an amount of time that made Sansa wonder whether Stannis didn’t get _tired_ he suddenly sped up even more, causing her to let out a little surprised sound. His hips were moving a bit jerkily, almost like he wanted to buck up but was restraining himself for the most part. He let out another one of those strangled moans - or maybe it was more of a grunt? - and something very warm and very wet landed on the part of her hand that wasn’t covered by Stannis’ larger one.

Semen.

Sansa had semen on her hand. It was weird and runny and viscous and _weird._

Stannis had released her, and his own dirty hand was resting on his abdomen, some of the mess getting smeared across his skin.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, “that wasn’t - that wasn’t very polite.” He was reaching for a box of tissues on the nightstand, handing her a few to clean her hand up and then taking care of the mess on his own skin.

“Um, it’s okay,” Sansa said, biting her lip, “should we go to sleep now?” She knew that men usually went to sleep after they had an orgasm. It was a bit disappointing since she was feeling very wound up and in need of attention, but she supposed she could just ignore it until she fell asleep. She couldn’t imagine trying to get herself off with Stannis sleeping right next to her.

“Do you want to?” Stannis asked her, his tone very serious.

“Um,” she said again, feeling a little foolish. If she was too embarrassed to ask for sex than she shouldn’t be having it, should she?

“I know I was very selfish just now, but I assure you, it was well meant. I’ll be able to focus on you now if you wish. But if you would rather go to sleep that’s okay, too,” Stannis said, still speaking in that very serious tone of voice.

“Focus on me how?” she asked, curious and still so very wound up.

“I could show you,” Stannis offered, his deep voice doing things to her that she was relatively sure no voice should be able to do. “Just tell me if you don’t like it.”

“Okay,” she quickly agreed, feeling relatively certain that she would enjoy practically anything he did as long as he was touching her.

He was taking her underwear off almost before she finished saying the word, his hands moving decisively over her body, tugging, unclasping, pulling. Her breathing sped up and she helped him as much as she could, lifting her hips so that he could get her panties down, moving her arms obligingly to allow him to slide the bra straps out of the way. He left the stockings on.

He moaned as soon as her breasts were free of the lacy bra, his large hands covering them, fondling them eagerly and pinching her nipples lightly. The heat between her legs increased exponentially with his every touch, and she started to mewl and squirm around, needing something to press up between her legs. Needing it _badly._

“Please,” she sighed, trying to move around so that she could trap one of his thighs between hers, wanting to rub herself against him and do something about the empty, throbbing ache that was somehow both pleasant and maddening.

Stannis kept playing with her nipples, using his fingers and his tongue and his lips, causing jolt after jolt of pleasure to race through her, and resisted her attempts to trap his thigh. It was impossible to get it done without his cooperation as she was on her back and he on his side, so she gave up.

“Stannis,” she moaned, a needy whine in her tone, “ _please._ ”

He looked at her, his pupils blown wide, and seemed to be searching her face for something. After a moment it seemed that he had found what he was looking for. His hand traveled from the breast it had been fondling and down her abdomen. It sort of tickled even though it didn’t, and she stopped breathing for a moment, feeling as if her every nerve was on high alert due to anticipation.

It was strange to have his hand down there, touching her intimately with his fingers, but she didn’t dwell on how odd it was when it started to feel _good._ His first touches had been exploratory, and she was sure he had been mapping her folds with his fingertips, learning the lay of the land. Those touches had been interesting, but not particularly pleasurable. Now, though. Now he was touching her a lot more deliberately. He was using the pads of his fingers to spread her moisture from her opening up to her mound, and there he stayed, rubbing slow circles with what seemed like infinite patience.

Feeling a little wanton, she blushed and spread her legs a bit more, making sure he had complete access. She really wanted him to keep going, but she kept her eyes closed, not feeling up to the task of meeting his eyes while he was touching her like that. It seemed embarrassing.

“How far have you gone?” he asked after a while, his voice still deep and soothing.

Sansa felt her blush deepen and she was very glad that her eyes were closed. “This is as far as I’ve ever gone with anyone,” she admitted. She would not tell him that she had experimented with her own fingers. That was private.

“Tell me _immediately_ if anything I do hurts you,” he said, moving his fingers down from her mound towards her entrance, rubbing the outside in a way that felt quite nice. “Some discomfort is normal, or so I’m told, but it should not hurt.”

She took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her mouth. “Okay,” she said, “that’s what I’ve gathered, too.” She tried to relax, remembering that it would not help things if she was tense.

The familiar sensation of a finger pushing inside put her at ease. Just one finger, entering slowly. That didn’t hurt at all. She relaxed completely and tried to focus on how exciting it was to have Stannis touch her that way. How much she wanted it. She felt herself clench around his finger at the thought, and heard Stannis’ breathing speed up.

“How does this feel?” he asked after a while, starting to move his finger in and out, slowly and gently.

“Mm, good,” she moaned, still keeping her eyes closed and focusing intently on everything she liked about the situation instead of thinking about how weird it was to let Stannis see her so exposed and touch her so intimately.

Hopefully Stannis didn’t mind the wet noises he was causing. They were embarrassing, but Sansa tried to ignore them.

She jumped when he moved his thumb so that he could rub circles near her mound, stimulating the spot that never failed to bring her pleasure while he continued to move his finger in and out. A small surprised noise escaped her, and she spread her legs even more, trying to encourage him to keep going. She never wanted him to stop.

It was a bit of a stretch when he added a second finger, but it was only a little uncomfortable for a moment. It started to feel good almost right away, and Sansa continued to stay relaxed, continued to moan out wordless encouragements, continued to enjoy the sensations with her eyes closed.

The third finger was a bit more uncomfortable, but it didn’t exactly _hurt,_ and she knew she needed to let him stretch her properly before they tried to fit his cock in there. She focused on breathing, relaxing, and accepting this invasion. It took a bit longer than before, but eventually it started to just feel good again.

Sansa opened her eyes when she felt Stannis shift his body until he was kneeling between her legs. She wanted to know what he was doing and why he wasn’t rubbing circles with his thumb anymore. Her face felt like it had caught fire when she realised he was lowering his mouth to her mound, three fingers still moving slowly in and out of her, his eyes smouldering and fixed on her face.

She hurriedly closed her eyes. Maybe when she was more used to this she would be able to look at him do that, but for now she was just too… overwhelmed.

Any control she might have had over the sounds that she was making disappeared when he started to lick her as he continued to work his fingers, his tongue hot on her swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves, licking all around it and never lingering too directly on it.

She clenched around his fingers as he moved his tongue faster, suddenly wishing she was _fuller._ It all just felt so good when he combined the sensations like that.

When he started to suck on her tender flesh, blindsiding her completely with the intense pleasure of the peak he brought her to, she screamed and tensed up. She couldn’t decided whether she wanted to pull her thighs together and force him to stay right where he was while she came or push him away. Her legs twitched uncertainly due to her indecision, and she almost wanted to cry.

Eventually he took his lips away, but he kept pumping his fingers in and out of her, going faster than ever before. It felt good, but she could remember the way his cock had felt when he had been trying to push inside before they had their wedding, and she missed the blunt, rounded feel of it. His fingers were much sharper in comparison.

As if he had read her mind, he pulled his fingers out of her and moved into position on top of her. He kept his weight on his knees and elbows, and she felt more at ease about looking at him now that he was no longer up to his knuckles in her. He was watching her very carefully, and seemed pleased when she met his eyes.

“All right?” he asked, rubbing his cock against her in a way that made her want to throw her head back and roll her eyes into the back of her head. It was better than good, and much better than it had felt last time. The desire to be filled was becoming almost too much to bear.

“Yes,” she gasped, forcing herself to keep looking at him, knowing that this was an important moment.

“If you need me to stop,” Stannis said, breathing heavily, “I promise I will stop.”

“I trust you,” she said, lifting her head off her pillow to close the distance between their lips and kiss him. They kissed until her neck started to complain, causing her to drop her head back down.

He spent a bit longer just letting the head of his cock slide around her slick folds, and Sansa enjoyed it so genuinely much that she didn’t have any trouble relaxing. She mewled at the pleasurable sensation of having him so close, and brought her hands up to stroke his back, feeling like she ought to encourage him.

“Bring your thighs up,” Stannis said after a while, his voice much more strained than before.

Sansa did as he asked, but for some reason her brain picked that moment to remind her that they had never got around to discussing birth control. Should she bring it up? She wasn’t on the pill, and he wasn’t wearing a condom. This was the opposite of safe.

“Um, should you be wearing a condom?” she blurted out, right as he seemed to be bracing himself to start pressing forward.

“What?” he sounded confused.

“I mean, I don’t have any, um, diseases or anything, but isn’t it safer?” She was blushing again.

“I don’t have any diseases either,” he said, kissing her quickly and giving her a questioning look.

“I’m not on birth control,” she admitted, unable to keep such an important piece of information to herself.

“Oh,” Stannis said, the sound coming out with a rush of air. He rolled off, lying down next to her. “I could call the front desk,” he suggested, “have condoms delivered.”

The idea seemed completely mortifying to her. “Couldn’t I just take the morning after pill tomorrow?” she suggested, chewing her lip.

Stannis looked at her with a torn expression on his face. Even though she hadn’t known him for very long she felt fairly sure that if she had asked him a bit earlier he would have insisted on having the condoms delivered. But now there was something in his eyes that told her that he was only hanging on by a thread, and that he’d cave if she pushed just a little harder.

“Please? I need you,” she sighed, reaching for his cock and touching it rather boldly.

Stannis groaned and was on top of her before she could blink, encouraging her to lift her thighs to cradle his body, guiding his cock into place and pushing forward so quickly that she barely had a chance to process what had happened by the time he pressed the head between her folds and _in._

“Ah!” It didn’t exactly hurt, but it wasn’t as nice as it had been to have his fingers in there. The stretch of his cock burned a little, and she whimpered with discomfort. What would it feel like with more than the head inside?

“Shall I stop?” Stannis asked, not pressing himself any further in. Tiny beads of sweat had started to appear on his forehead, and his jaw was clenched tightly shut now that he wasn’t speaking.

“No, keep going,” she told him, “just - just slowly.”

He started to move again, but instead of pressing forward he retreated a bit before pushing back in. He did this repeatedly, rocking back and forth until the movement started to feel comfortable. Sansa made sure to let him know when it started to feel nice, and only then did he start trying to work himself in deeper.

Sansa did her best to keep him informed of how she was doing, but it got more and more difficult as time wore on. It was the strangest mixture of pleasure and pain she had ever experienced, and it was hard to put everything she was experiencing into words.

“Jesus, fuck,” Stannis hissed out when he suddenly slid all the way inside after what seemed like an age of slowly going back and forth and moving only an inch deeper every now and again. “Holy son of a -”

“What is it?” she gasped out, trying to focus on the sensation of having satisfied her body’s craving to be filled rather than on the faint burn and stretch of muscles that had never been forced to accommodate anything as large as Stannis’ cock. “Is it hurting you?” Was it possible for men to hurt themselves during sex? She had never heard of such a thing, but she had always focused more on gathering information about the female experience.

He let out a hot rush of air, breathing heavily through his mouth. “No,” he said, “just… hot... tight. _Fuck._ ” He was holding himself still and scrunching his face up into a grimace that definitely looked like he was experiencing something rather intense. “Is it okay if I move?” he asked after he had managed to get his heavy breathing under a bit of control.

It hadn’t felt too bad when he had been rocking back and forth, so she gave him permission. “Yes.”

He began to move just like before, gentle rocking motions that didn’t hurt at all. In fact, the more he moved the more she wanted him to move. Something about the way his body ground into hers made sparks of pleasure erupt, and soon the pleasure was overpowering the lingering burning sensation. She doubted she would make it all the way to another orgasm, but she was definitely not in pain. From what she had gathered, that was definitely a victory.

After a while, when Sansa had made sure Stannis knew that she was enjoying herself, he started to pull out a little further and push back inside a little faster. It was nothing like the glimpses she had seen of porn in her time, where the men tended to hump the ladies they were with using the sort of force that had always made Sansa blush and look away, but it was definitely a bit more than the gentle rocking movements he had been executing up until now.

He hadn’t said much since he had choked out a few words about how hot and tight she felt - she clenched up as she remembered how he had sounded - and as much as she liked the grunts that occasionally escaped him she wondered if she could encourage him to say a little more. She had _really_ liked the way his voice had sounded...

“Does it feel good for you?” she asked him, trying to keep from blushing. It didn’t really work.

“Yes,” he hissed out, his breathing very laboured and ragged. He sped up a little more.

“Good how?” she asked, trying to ignore the wet noises that got louder with his increased speed. She hadn’t realised sex would come with so many embarrassing sounds. She didn’t mind the sweat and the telltale smell of their mingled arousal, but the sounds were really _awkward._

He groaned and panted out a sentence that was almost complete gibberish. “Fuck, so wet, so tight, Jesus, Sansa, I can’t, you’re so - _fuck._ ”

It was the most arousing thing she had ever heard. She wanted him to keep going because listening to his graveled voice was making it so much easier for her to enjoy the way he was speeding up more with almost every thrust.

Were those smacking noises every time he filled her to the hilt supposed to happen? Would they always be so _loud?_

She almost made a startled noise when Stannis suddenly let out a drawn out groan and pushed himself in as deep as he could. She hadn’t expected him to do that without any warning, and it took her a moment to realise he had just finished.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice breathless and raspy.

Her stomach did several flips and her heart expanded until it felt like it was taking over her entire body. Stannis clearly did not do things by halves.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back, wondering if it was completely ridiculous to be in love after less than a day.

Oh, well. It wasn’t any more ridiculous than getting married after less than a day.

Stannis was still inside of her, and Sansa became distracted by thoughts that were decidedly less romantic than love confessions. She knew she was at a point in her cycle where it was _incredibly_ unlikely that she would conceive, but the thought that Stannis had just had an orgasm _inside of her_ still made her heart beat even faster than it had already been doing. She remembered watching videos in health class of sperm cells with their tails moving furiously, trying to be the first to get to the egg and fertilise it, and she couldn’t help but wonder if something like that was going on inside her at that very moment. It was a deeply peculiar thought.

Stannis moaned a little when he pulled out of her and rolled to lie beside her. He sounded like he was probably not having any weird thoughts. He sounded like all he was experiencing was deep satisfaction and pleasure, and it made her smile to think that she had given him that.

Remembering something about how girls should always pee soon after sex, Sansa decided to get up and use the en suite before she gave into the urge to cuddle. She had a feeling that if she started to cuddle she would have trouble tearing herself away.

It was more than a little weird to feel something warm trickling out of her as she stood up, making her thighs wet. She had no control over it, but she tried to clench up to keep everything _in_ anyway.

She was relieved that she decided to use the facilities when she realised that there was a tiny bit of blood to clean up along with… everything else. It wasn’t much, but she would have felt a bit embarrassed if it had all ended up on the nice white sheets of the hotel’s bed. She had a feeling that some of her blood was probably already staining the sheets, but at least she had done what she could to minimise the damage.

Stannis pulled her close the second she was in bed again, his strong arm locking her to his chest. It made her feel very safe and wanted, and she made wordless noises of pleasure to let him know that she approved. An answering rumble from deep inside his chest told her that he was pleased that she approved.

He was asleep before she managed to ask him whether he wanted a turn in the en suite, and nothing she did could wake him up. It was as if some sort of off switch had been flipped, making him completely dead to the world.

“Good night, then,” she said, her lips curling into an amused smile. “Husband.”

She kissed his cheek and soon it was as if someone had flipped her off switch, too.


	5. Rise and Shine

Someone was banging on a drum. It was very loud and obnoxious. Why on earth would someone be banging away at a drum at this ungodly hour?

What was this ungodly hour, anyway?

Stannis opened his eyes and grabbed for his phone. It was always on his nightstand. Always. Except right now. Damn it. He kept grabbing at the surface of the nightstand, raising his head to glare blearily at it. Eventually he found his watch and brought it up to his face. It was twelve o’clock.

Well, he had needed to catch up on some sleep. It made sense.

The banging was still happening, and Stannis suddenly realised it was coming from the door to the hotel corridor in the other room. It wasn’t banging, anyway. It was knocking.

He should probably go see what it was about.

A feminine moan startled Stannis from his thoughts and he nearly broke his neck trying to snap his head around as fast as he could to investigate the source of the sound.

As soon as he saw Sansa and her red hair spilling over the white pillowcases he remembered everything.

 _I got married to Sansa last night. We got married and we consummated said marriage. We confessed our love for each other._ It was a very strange thought, but it didn’t inspire any regret. It inspired a swooping feeling inside his belly, and mild arousal, but no regret. Hopefully she wouldn’t feel any regret, either.

The banging got louder.

“Fuck,” he muttered, getting out of bed and pulling on one of those white fluffy robes hotel rooms always seemed to come with. His cock was half hard the way it often was when he woke up, but it was also crusty with dry semen and a bit of something brown and flaky that was probably blood. _Because I took Sansa’s virginity last night. With no condom on._ “Fuck,” he muttered again, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He really needed a shower. But first he needed to answer the door.

Garlan Tyrell practically stumbled into the room when Stannis opened the door, removing the surface that Tyrell had been pounding his fist against.

“Finally!” Tyrell exclaimed, looking around at all the sofas. “Do you know where Sansa is? The girls lost her last night and all I could remember was inviting her to sit with you at that strip club,” he babbled, walking around and lifting the throw pillows on the designer furniture -- as if Sansa was hiding underneath them.

“Calm down,” Stannis said, not really up to dealing with such excitement. “Sansa is fine.”

“But Jeyne said she never made it back to their room! Margaery is in a _state._ An absolute _state._ ”

“Garlan?” Sansa appeared in the doorway that led to the bedroom, her hair a mess and her body covered with the same kind of fluffy white robe as Stannis was wearing. She was yawning hugely. Her makeup was gone, but she looked _gorgeous._

“Sansa! Thank god! Where have you been?” Tyrell was walking over to Sansa and wrapping her in a hug that made Stannis a little irritated. If anyone should be hugging Sansa it was him. She was _his_ wife.

He scowled at the jealous caveman that had suddenly awoken within him and told it to go back to the stone age. Then he tried to focus on the conversation that was taking place.

“... what do you mean you slept here?”

“I mean exactly what I said, Garlan.” Sansa looked unnaturally calm given the circumstances.

“You and Stannis slept together?” Tyrell was blinking very fast and looking back and forth between Stannis and Sansa.

“We did,” Sansa confirmed with a nod.

“Like… _together_ , together?” Tyrell was still blinking fast.

“Yes.”

“Like, _sex,_ together?”

“This really isn’t any of your business,” Stannis interjected, not bothering to keep his irritation from bleeding into his tone, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“We got married,” Sansa added, holding her hand in front of Tyrell’s face to display her ring.

Tyrell staggered back and sank into the nearest sofa. His mouth had dropped open in a comical expression of utter shock and disbelief.

“You - you two got Vegas married?” He stared at them some more. “Were you drunk?”

“Of course not,” Stannis said, bristling a little. He never drank. Tyrell knew that.

“Then why -?”

“We’re in love,” Sansa explained, blushing and glancing at Stannis a little nervously. It was almost as if she were wondering whether it had been a secret that she ought not have divulged. He nodded at her, hoping to reassure her. It was a relief to see her handling the situation with such poise. Hopefully it meant that she wasn’t feeling any regret. 

_Good._

“In love,” Tyrell repeated flatly. “Had you even met each other before last night?” 

Sansa and Stannis both said no at the same time. Sansa shot him a shy smile and whispered, “jinx,” at him. His lips quirked in response. He hadn’t heard anyone say ‘jinx’ since grade school. He really should think of it as childish, but coming from her it was surprisingly endearing.

“I’ll be damned,” Tyrell said, running his hands through his hair and staring at them both like they were alien lifeforms. “No one is going to believe me.”

“I’ll call Jeyne and Margaery,” Sansa said, “I should have thought to text them last night…”

“Apparently you were busy getting married,” Tyrell said, his tone dryer than the desert around them.

Stannis lost what little remained of his patience. “At the risk of sounding repetitive, I’d like you to leave now,” he said, glaring at Tyrell.

Tyrell got to his feet. “Of course,” he said, giving Stannis a very strange look, “I’m sorry I interrupted the honeymoon.”

He left not long after that, and silence fell.

Stannis looked at Sansa’s face and for a moment all he could think about was how it had felt to be inside of her. A shudder of pleasure ran down his spine.

“I should go call Jeyne and Margaery,” Sansa said, chewing on her bottom lip. “They must be worried sick.”

Stannis nodded. “I’ll call room service and have some breakfast sent up. Any particular preferences?”

“French toast,” Sansa said, “and lemonade.”

His wife had a sweet tooth it seemed. He called the order in, asking for tea and an omelette for himself, and headed straight for the bedroom when he was done. He really needed a shower.

Sansa was lying in bed, her phone pressed to her ear and an anxious expression on her face.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t let you guys know, I just… I wasn’t thinking. He took me to see Britney.”

Stannis indicated that he wanted her attention and she took the phone away from her ear.

“I’m going for a shower. Can you open the door if breakfast arrives while I’m indisposed?”

She nodded and went back to her phone call.

It felt very good to have a hot shower. Cleaning the mess off his cock made his stomach clench up uncomfortably, however. The fact that there was blood meant that he could have been more gentle with Sansa. It was supposed to be possible to take a woman’s virginity without drawing blood. He must have been too rough. The guilt of it gnawed at his conscience even as the memory of how it had felt when he had finally worked himself all the way inside her wet, welcoming heat caused his cock to twitch.

He had not meant to hurt her. He had just been much too exhausted after more than forty hours without sleep to act with the sort of patience he should have acted with.

And fuck, had he really forgone any form of protection? Sansa needed to take the morning after pill soon if it was to work, didn’t she? Should he run out to the nearest pharmacy?

As much as Stannis wouldn’t mind having a family someday down the line, he didn’t think it would be a good idea for her to fall pregnant quite yet. They still needed to get to know each other a bit better.

Thinking about family got Stannis to think about his own family and how Robert and Renly would react to the news of Stannis’ marriage. He was very quick to push the thought away, but it was immediately replaced with a mental image of a very angry Ned Stark. He could not imagine that Ned would be best pleased with Stannis for - how had Tyrell put it? - ‘Vegas marrying’ one of his precious daughters and possibly impregnating her.

After towelling himself dry and donning his white fluffy robe again, Stannis joined Sansa in the bedroom. The bedroom where he had taken her virginity. _Jesus._

“You look like you saw a ghost in there,” Sansa said, gazing up at him from her prone position on the bed with a concerned look in her eyes.

She sat up when he moved to sit down with her, and he stared at her face, trying to ascertain whether she was feeling tender or in any kind of pain. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, “last night, I mean?”

Sansa’s eyebrows rose up and she blinked very rapidly at him. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, it burned a bit,” she blushed and averted her eyes from his, “but it wasn’t painful. Not really. And it got quite nice at the end.” Her cheeks were glowing pink.

“I should have been more patient with you,” he said, his tone apologetic, “I will attempt to be less selfish next time.” He spoke tentatively at the end, wondering if he was to be allowed a next time.

“You weren’t selfish at all!” Sansa exclaimed, an expression of dismay appearing on her face, and her eyes meeting his again, a determined light in them. “I mean, you - you made me… you know. With your mouth.” She was still blushing, but she did not look away from him. Her eyes were unwavering.

As much as he thought her shyness was endearing, he was glad of that sign that she was learning to overcome it. He hoped she would soon feel confident with him and her sexuality. Sex was a normal part of life, though it should not be treated as the sort of thing one did with just _anyone_ , and if she was able to engage in it, she should be able to speak of it. At the very least with her partner.

Her husband.

Him.

“I went down on you and gave you an orgasm,” he finished for her. “I find it best to call a spade a spade.”

She swallowed and nodded. “You made me orgasm,” she repeated, biting her lip. “It was really good,” she added with a small smile and a blush.

Stannis couldn’t resist the impulse to kiss her at that. “You’re certain I didn’t hurt you?” He searched her eyes for hints of doubt, but he could not see any untruth when she nodded.

He nodded curtly in return. “Should I go to the pharmacy to pick up the morning after pill for you?” he asked, willing himself not to act awkward about this. If she could talk to him about orgasms, he could talk to her about methods to prevent pregnancy.

“Would you?” There was relief etched in her every feature and her tone. She had clearly not been looking forward to buying that sort of product for herself.

“Of course.” She was his wife. It was his duty to care for her. Even if they hadn’t married one another he would still have offered to do such a thing after engaging in unprotected sexual intercourse with her. It was the right thing to do.

“Jeyne and Margaery both thought I was crazy to marry you,” Sansa blurted out, “but I really don’t think I made a mistake.” She wrapped her arms around him and crawled into his lap. There was a lot of white fluffy bathrobe between them. “You’re wonderful.”

Despite the layers of white fluffy robe Stannis felt his cock coming to life again. He clenched his jaw and tried to ignore it. He’d had unprotected sex with her once because he had been exhausted, muddled up and swept away by his feelings for her. He did not have all those excuses now. Before they did anything else he had to go to the pharmacy and pick up that pill and possibly an enormous box of condoms.

“We were perhaps a little hasty, but I agree with you. I do not think we made a mistake.”

Sansa shifted around, rubbing herself against his hard cock and sighing softly. “Jeyne and Margaery both asked if I had told my family yet,” she said, sounding a little nervous.

“You haven’t, have you?”

“Of course not. I haven’t had the time. And I - I feel like we should tell them in person.”

“You want us to go to Alaska?”

Sansa bit her lip and nodded. “If you don’t mind…”

Stannis had hoped to go back to New York today, but he supposed it was only natural that a marriage would change his plans a bit. It would change his life in a lot of more important ways. Taking a trip to Alaska was nothing.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Stannis said, wondering how he ought to phrase the question that had just occurred to him.

“Thank you. Do you want me to check whether there are any convenient flights or -”

“Where are we going to live?” Stannis blurted out, unable to come up with a better way to ask.

“Oh,” Sansa shifted around again, reminding Stannis of the fact that he was still rather aroused. “New York, I suppose? That’s where I work. I told you that, didn’t I?”

Sansa had mentioned it at some point. Stannis recalled being impressed with her position at the nonprofit organisation she worked for. She had explained that when she had been with Joffrey she had thrown herself into her work to have an excuse to be away from him as much as she could, often working very late. It had the unintended side effect of putting her on the fast track when it came to promotions.

“No, I assumed we’d live in New York as we both work there, I meant… would you like to move to my apartment? Or would you like us to buy a house?” Stannis wasn’t sure his apartment would be to Sansa’s liking. He had very rarely brought women home, but those few who had visited him has usually always commented on his apartment’s lack of personal touches.

“Well, I don’t think Jeyne would like it if you moved in with us,” Sansa said, sounding amused, “so I think it would probably make sense if I moved to your apartment.”

It was an odd thought: moving in together after such a short acquaintance. Stannis knew it was more common for people to date for a while before moving in together, but he couldn’t imagine being _married_ and then not living with his wife.

“All right, we can make the arrangements when we return to the city.” If Sansa didn’t like his apartment he could offer to have it redecorated. It was an acceptable expense if it meant making his wife feel welcome and like the apartment was hers, too. His stomach did a flip as he imagined his apartment becoming her home, and his cock pulsed when his mind accidentally drifted towards thinking about his bedroom becoming hers as well. Sansa moved again, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning.

He really needed to go get those condoms.

“Breakfast got here while you were in the shower. It’s just in the other room,” Sansa whispered. Her tone convinced Stannis that her movements were deliberate and designed to drive him mad.

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

Pushing Sansa off his lap was one of the harder things he had done in his life, and that was counting his training to become a SEAL.

They moved to the table where breakfast had been set up, and as they walked Stannis asked a question that had just occurred to him.

“Was Margaery offended that you left her bachelorette party in order to get married?” He held Sansa’s chair out for her, and she gave him a surprised look.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet, “and no. Mostly she was relieved I wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. Like I said, she mostly thinks we’re a bit crazy, but she would never get offended over something like this. She’s a very sweet person.”

Stannis had a feeling that Margaery would have been a lot less sweet if he and Sansa had decided to throw a big wedding to compete with the one she and Joffrey were throwing. He knew the Tyrells, and he knew that they liked to be the centre of attention. None of them would take kindly to the risk of being upstaged.

“Of course she was relieved you weren’t dead. It would have reflected very poorly on her,” he said, uncovering his omelette and picking up his cutlery.

“I’m beginning to think you don’t like the Tyrells very much,” Sansa said, raising an eyebrow and sipping her lemonade.

He hummed noncommittally and started eating. The omelette was decent, but he would have preferred it to be a bit less seasoned.

It was very intimate to eat with Sansa, and Stannis enjoyed the comfortable silence that settled between them as they enjoyed their food. It wasn’t hard to imagine spending time with her like this at his - their - apartment, their eyes meeting frequently and her foot occasionally bumping into his leg under the table. Something expanded inside of him at the thought, warming him all the way down to his toes. He’d enjoy sharing his mornings with her.

He ate a bit more quickly than Sansa did, and though he would very much have liked to linger at the table with her, he knew he needed to get to the pharmacy soon. He therefore excused himself to go get dressed.

The trip to the pharmacy took twenty minutes at most, but it felt like a torturous eternity. The girl behind the counter didn’t so much as blink at his purchase, but he still felt a little awkward about buying the largest box of condoms he had been able to find along with the morning after pill. Somehow he managed to keep his face blank.

It was a lot more awkward when Sansa found the condoms in the bag when he returned. She had been looking for the morning after pill, clearly not ready to get pregnant quite yet judging by her eagerness to find it, and there the box was: shiny due to the plastic it was wrapped in, proudly proclaiming its brand name without a care in the world.

“Oh,” Sansa said, retracting her hand from the bag as if the box of condoms had been red-hot. “That’s… um. I suppose that’s - um - responsible.” She was blushing, but something about the look in her eyes was curious more than shy, and Stannis realised that she would never have used a condom before. Maybe she was wondering what it would be like?

“It’s safer,” Stannis said, clearing his throat and wishing he could stop imagining what it would be like to have her roll a condom on for him, her hands a little unsure and gentle. And what would it be like to have her observe as he put one on himself? Would she look even more curious? Excited? Would she blush?

He was rapidly becoming hard due to his thoughts, and he really hoped she wouldn’t notice. It probably came off a little pushy to show up with a big box of condoms and a raging cockstand.

“I’m just going to go take the pill,” Sansa said, clutching the box that contained the morning after solution. “I - I’ll talk to you in a bit about the flights I found to Alaska, okay?”

Stannis nodded and tried to give her an encouraging smile. He was very unused to smiling, so he had no idea if he succeeded. Perhaps it had just looked like a grimace?

_Get a grip, man._

It turned out that the most convenient flight to Alaska would be leaving that very evening. Many of the flights Sansa had found required more than one stop, but the one that left for the city of Juneau that evening only had one stop in Seattle.

Stannis insisted on booking them first class tickets, and Sansa gave him a very grateful look. It was a long flight, after all.

When they had finished making all the arrangements for the flight there was a strange and slightly tense silence, and Stannis wasn’t sure what to say to fix it.

“I should probably go to my hotel to pack,” Sansa said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind one of her ears. She looked down at the fluffy white robe she was still wearing a laughed a little nervously. “But I guess I should probably get dressed first.”

Stannis decided that enough was enough. He had been trying to keep his distance so that his erection wouldn’t come back, but he couldn’t stand the awkward atmosphere that he had inadvertently created. He went over to the sofa where Sansa was sitting and sat down next to her, placing his arm around her and encouraging her to lean against him. She was happy to cuddle up to him, and the tension between them faded a little.

“How are you?” he asked, hoping that she was not having any second thoughts.

“I’m…” Sansa sighed and cuddled closer, “I’m still having a bit of trouble wrapping my head around all this.”

He understood. It was a lot to take in for him, too.

“I think it will be good to tell Mom and Dad. It will all feel a bit less surreal after that.”

Stannis hummed out a sound of agreement. He was thinking that telling _his_ family wouldn’t make anything less surreal. Involving Robert was sure to make things more surreal, if anything. He decided not to talk about that for now. They’d deal with Robert when they made it to New York. Or possibly, since Robert’s legs were broken, they’d be able to put it off for longer.

“Do you think they will be disappointed?” Stannis asked, feeling certain that his own parents - had they been alive - would have complained if he hadn’t invited them to his wedding.

“What do you mean?” There was a hint of worry in her tone.

“Most parents want to be present when their children get married.”

“Oh,” Sansa sounded relieved. “Well, yeah… Mom might get upset about that. She loves weddings. I’m not sure about Dad.”

“He would have wanted to walk you down the aisle, don’t you think?”

“I - I don’t really know. We’ve never been very close.”

“No?” Stannis thought Sansa was the sort of daughter most fathers would be thrilled to have. It seemed unlikely that Ned hadn’t realised how lucky he was.

“He’s just always had an easier time of relating to my brothers and my younger sister. I don’t think he knew what to do with me when I wanted him to play with me and my Barbie dolls or have pretend tea parties.” Sansa was smiling, but there was a vulnerable look in her eyes that made Stannis tighten his hold on her.

“I’m sure he would still have wanted to walk you down the aisle.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Sansa said, her voice small.

They were quiet for a little while, and Stannis couldn’t resist the impulse to stroke and pet her lightly wherever he could reach, hoping that it was comforting to her. He was fairly sure she liked it as she leaned into his touch and made content little noises every now and then.

Eventually one of the noises came out as more of a moan than anything else, and she brought her lips to his, kissing him a little uncertainly at first, but with increased fervour as he made sure she knew her attentions were definitely wanted and welcome. He kissed her back, making a pleased noise of his own without consciously deciding to, and soon their tongues were doing things that made his cock take notice and his palms itch to fondle certain places.

“Can I - I mean, may I - could this come off?” he asked, pulling on her robe and stumbling over his words.

Sansa bit her lip and nodded, undoing the simple knot that held her robe closed and shrugging it down her shoulders for him.

Her breasts looked gorgeous in the bright sunlight streaming through the large windows of the suite, and Stannis took a moment to just admire them and watch as her blush spread from her face, down her neck and to her chest. It was a deeply arousing sight.

“You’re stunning,” he rasped, feeling a little more at ease with complimenting her now that he’d had a bit of practise. Last night he had hardly been able to get the words out. But, to be fair, he’d been rather overwhelmed at the time.

Sansa looked down, modest to a fault, and whispered a polite, “thank you.”

He placed a thumb and a forefinger under her chin and exerted the smallest amount of pressure he could, wordlessly asking her to look back up and meet his eyes. He wanted her to see how much he meant what he said.

Their eyes locked for all of three seconds before Sansa surprised him by launching herself at him, wrapping her arms enthusiastically around his neck and kissing him with tongue and teeth and plump, soft lips. She had left the robe behind, and she was climbing all over him, naked and suddenly much less shy.

A lungful of air escaped him all at once when she settled over his groin, straddling him like a prize stallion. Sansa moved away from his mouth and started to kiss his jaw instead, her hands stroking the back of his head and steering him so that her access to his neck became better. He went along with it, letting his hands wander all over her back, and wondered what he had done to wake this side of her up. He couldn’t think what it could have been, and it was very frustrating because he would dearly love to be able to do it again.

It was very sudden when she stopped; her body going still and her breathing slowing down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Sansa trailed off, made an incomprehensible hand gesture, and got off his lap with an embarrassed expression on her face.

He let her go, though he was tempted to restrain her. He had liked what she had been doing.

“Don’t apologise,” he said, trying to sound normal. He sounded too hoarse for normal, but at least his voice didn’t break or crack. “I was enjoying it.”

Sansa had picked her robe up and draped it over herself. “Really?” She was looking at him curiously again, reminding him of the thoughts he’d had regarding her and and the condoms. She’d looked curious about them, too.

… and now he was thinking about what it would feel like to have her roll a condom over his overly excitable cock again.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, feeling a little confused. “We’re on our honeymoon, aren’t we?” They were literally in one of the few situations where society both encouraged and downright expected couples to be eager to have sex at all hours of the day.

Sansa shifted around, and Stannis felt a delicious thrill at the thought of how turned on she had to be if she was unable to keep from squirming like that. 

“Do you… do you want to go to bed, maybe?” she asked, her pink blush deepening and becoming redder.

“Yes,” he said simply. Honestly was quite often the best policy.

Sansa kissed him again, and it was definitely the best reward he had ever received for being honest. She didn’t kiss him for very long, however. Soon she took her perfect lips away in order to get to her feet, robe held loosely to her body. She giggled when she nearly tripped over the coffee table, and practically ran towards the bedroom. Seeing her run triggered some instinct deep inside him to give chase, and he was up from the sofa almost before making the decision to stand, hurrying after her and only stopping to grab the condoms.

Their bed was still an unmade mess, but Stannis barely noticed. All he saw was Sansa. She had dropped the robe and was sitting naked in the middle of the bed, her chest heaving and her eyes sparkling. She had arranged her long legs in a way that made them look especially attractive, and Stannis hoped she would not mind if he kissed every inch of the smooth, ivory skin of her calves and thighs.

“Could you - um - take off your clothes?” Sansa requested, her eyes moving from his face and downwards.

He nodded and began to unbutton his shirt. He hadn’t put on a tie for his run to the pharmacy, and he was glad of it now. He watched her surreptitiously as he removed his clothing, noticing that just like last night she seemed very pleased with what she was seeing. He was aware that he was in good shape, but he would never look like Robert had in his youth, so it surprised him to see the blatant desire in Sansa’s eyes when his torso was fully revealed.

If she kept looking at him like that… 

_Fuck._

“I really don’t understand how it all managed to fit,” Sansa whispered, her eyes having gone to his cock after he removed his underwear.

Stannis had always prided himself on being immune to flattery, but it was quite different to hear his wife practically tell him that she thought his cock was big than it was to listen to people he had no respect for simper at him at boring dinner parties. Judging by the way his ego had just surpassed the Grand Canyon in size, he was completely susceptible to flattery from Sansa.

Needing to distract himself before his head became as big as Robert’s, he got on the bed with Sansa and started to kiss her legs like he had been wanting to do since he’d entered the room. Her calves were long and toned, and her skin smelled faintly of coconut. She giggled and moaned as he dragged his lips up towards her knees, saying slightly incoherent things about his stubble and squirming about.

Her hands had found their way to the back of his head by the time he was licking her inner thighs, and he could feel her tugging him upwards. She clearly wanted his mouth _between_ her thighs, not on them. He had every intention of obliging her, but he wanted to finish what he was currently doing first, and he meant to be thorough.

“Stannis,” Sansa moaned, a bit of a whine to her tone, “please…”

He smiled against her thigh, hoping that she would continue to sound like that for a little while longer.

A little while came and went, and Sansa was starting to sound frustrated with him. Her tugging was becoming more insistent, and he was sure that she would soon be using her thighs to simply trap his head and keep him in place where she wanted him. The thought was both uncomfortable and oddly arousing, but as he didn’t want to risk suffocating, he decided to give her what she wanted.

“Oh, _yes,_ ” she cried out when he started to lick her folds, flattening his tongue and pressing it firmly against her. “Don’t stop, please, please…”

She tasted like a woman ought to taste, and the smell of her was making him very impatient. He was rock-hard and ready for her, and the memory of being buried to the hilt and squeezed so _tightly_ by her soft inner walls was making him work as efficiently as he possibly could. He wanted to be back inside. He wanted to feel the way she accepted him and stretched to accommodate his size, and he really wanted her to _enjoy it._

With her moans in his ears and his intense desire for her spurring him on, he managed to lick her to completion in barely any time at all. He remembered everything she had liked from the night before and focused on repeating those things, using his fingers to help speed things along and sucking mercilessly on the place that made her gasp and buck up to press herself more firmly to his mouth.

Once she was trembling and flushed due to the orgasm he had just given her, he got up, wiped his mouth, and unwrapped the box of condoms he had brought. He could feel Sansa’s eyes on him as he removed a single foil packet from the box and carefully tore it open. He had to concentrate quite hard to keep his hands from shaking with excitement, but the fact that she was watching helped him keep control of himself. He was fairly sure it would make her nervous if he seemed less than confident.

This was only her second time.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed the condom over the head of his cock. Sansa sat up and moved closer, her expression curious.

“Do you want to learn?” he asked, his voice a little deeper than it usually was. He really liked the idea of watching her roll the condom down.

“Okay,” she said, moving off the bed and - _fuck_ \- kneeling on the floor in front of him.

Had she ever gone down on a man? Would she want to do that for him? God, her lips would look perfect around his cock...

“Could you start so that I know what I’m supposed to do?” she asked, distracting him from his dirty thoughts.

Stannis cleared his throat and nodded. With a fairly practised movement he started to roll the latex down, stopping after a few seconds and looking at her to see if she had understood. She licked her lips - _was she trying to kill him?_ \- and reached forward to take over the work he had started.

It wasn’t enough stimulation to be really satisfying, but the sight of his wife, kneeling before him and gently rolling a condom onto his cock, was arousing enough to force a moan out of him. The sound seemed to startle Sansa for a moment, but she kept going, blushing perhaps a little more deeply.

When she took her hands away he checked the condom, smoothing it out and getting rid of any air bubbles. It did not bother him to wear the latex, even though he knew it would mean that he wouldn’t be able to feel everything quite as well as last night. The tight fit of the rubber at the base was pleasant, and it was important to be responsible about these things. The morning after pill was not something they should rely on again.

“It’s slippery,” Sansa said as she got back in bed. She was rubbing her fingers together with interest.

“Lubricant,” Stannis explained, trying to pretend that his heart wasn’t beating furiously at the thought of what was about to happen. She was hopefully going to let him have her again, and this time he wouldn’t be loopy from exhaustion. This time he would be alert and able to enjoy every single moment to the fullest possible extent.

Sansa put the fingers she had been rubbing together into her mouth for a moment, sucking the lubricant from them. “It doesn’t taste like anything in particular,” she informed him. He was only able to nod as his throat had constricted and his lungs had stopped working. “Don’t some condoms come with strawberry and banana flavours and things?”

Stannis managed to start breathing again. Seeing her suck her own fingers had been incredibly erotic, and he wondered if she had done it on purpose. “Yes… some brands have flavours. Do you want to try that next time?”

Sansa shrugged. “Maybe.”

Unable to control himself for much longer, Stannis moved until he was hovering on top of Sansa. She spread her thighs without being asked, and looked perfectly content with how things were progressing.

“Is this all right?” he asked anyway, wanting to make sure. His voice came out a lot more strained than he had hoped, but at least he was understandable.

“Yeah,” she said, exhaling the word a little shakily.

He started to rub his latex-encased cock against her, enjoying the way everything was slippery with the condom’s lubricant and her natural moisture. Sansa wordlessly moved her thighs up to cradle him, encouraging him to stop his aimless rubbing and start searching for her entrance.

She made a very attractive sound when the head of his cock caught in the right place, and Stannis stopped for a moment to gather his senses.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he reminded her.

Two hands were suddenly squeezing his arse encouragingly. He exhaled a surprised breath and raised both eyebrows at her.

“I need you,” she said, blushing but meeting his eyes unashamedly.

He groaned and pushed forward, trying to be gentle, but unable to keep his hips from thrusting a bit too eagerly. It was just so much easier to enter her this time, and it was exciting to be able to lodge himself in to the hilt so quickly.

“Oh, my god!” Sansa gasped, her nails digging into his buttocks in a way he rather liked.

He forced himself to stay still in case her exclamation had not been one of pleasure. He was fairly sure she was not in pain, but he wanted to give her a chance to catch her breath before he started moving. He would have asked her if she was all right again, but he was having to tense every muscle in his body to keep from thrusting, and that included the muscles of his jaw.

She squeezed his arse and squirmed after a moment, and he decided to take that as his cue.

A noise of profound pleasure escaped him as he started to thrust: drawn out, primitive and guttural. He might have felt embarrassed about it if he hadn’t been too immersed in the sensations that were washing over him to even notice. This was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

“Mm, it’s - oh - it’s different with the condom,” Sansa said, her voice breathless and full of both pleasure and surprise.

“Good different or bad?” he managed to choke out.

Sansa’s hands were moving over his back now, and he liked it when her nails scratched his skin lightly. He closed his eyes and sped up, enjoying the sounds their bodies made as they met.

“Um,” she began, but stopped to make a series of incoherent ‘ah’ sounds as he found an angle she clearly liked. “I don’t know,” she moaned. “What’s it like for you?”

“I can’t feel you quite as well,” he panted, “but the condom is very tight around the base, and - _ah_ \- it feels like,” here he had to take a break from talking to grunt, “it feels like an extension of you,” he managed to finish.

Sansa moaned and tightened up around him in response to his words, and it made Stannis wish he could keep talking. She had seemed to like it when he had talked last night, too.

He tried to keep his pace steady for a little while, opening his eyes in order to observe Sansa’s reactions to his movements. She had her lips parted and her skin was flushed, and there was nothing about her that indicated that she was not enjoying herself completely.

She did not appear to be approaching another peak, however, which was a shame. He wanted to find out what it was like to be inside her while she came.

Hoping that she wouldn’t object, he changed their position, getting fully to his knees and encouraging her to rest her legs against his chest and point them straight up in the air. He knew this was a position that often helped women orgasm because apparently it stimulated their G spot. If it didn’t work for Sansa he would probably have to use his fingers to help her along.

“Oh!” 

Sansa clenched up very tightly when he started to move in their new position, holding onto her legs and thrusting decisively, and together with the sound of her surprised and pleased cry it gave Stannis a reason to believe that this was definitely good for her. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to increase the speed of his thrusts _gradually._ If he started to pound himself into her like some parts of him were insisting he should, he might hurt her, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Thankfully, Sansa seemed to like it better when he went faster, and soon he was thrusting exactly they way he needed to without feeling a lick of guilt. Sansa’s cries of pleasure were the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

His balls had tightened up by the time she started to flutter rhythmically around his cock, her cries high-pitched and needy, but he resisted the urge to follow her over the edge. He wanted to focus on feeling her pleasure, and he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything if he let himself go.

A little while later he could tell that Sansa had made it through to the other side. She was no longer tensing up, and was still and pliant beneath him, her entire body flushed pink.

“Do you want to try being on top?” he asked her, knowing that it would be easier for her to be on top now that she was relaxed than it would have been at the start.

Sansa’s eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at him with an unfocused look. “You’re not - um - done?” she asked, biting her lip and looking a little surprised.

“I’m close,” he told her, breathing heavily and hoping that she’d be willing to ride him until he got there.

“Can you help me?” she asked, “I feel like I can barely move.”

Instead of answering her he did as she asked and helped her. He pulled out, careful to make sure the condom didn’t slip off, and got on his back. Then, with an amused huff at the way she practically melted against him, he pulled her on top of him and held his cock steady for her.

He groaned when she began to rub herself against him, clearly trying to find the right place. It was easy since he had just been inside her, and soon she was sinking down on him, enveloping him with her heat and making him groan even more loudly.

It was amazing when she started to move. Even though she was inexperienced and uncertain it was just so _good._ (And that wasn’t even taking the view into account.) Judging by the way she was figuring out how to grind herself against him she was about to agree with him wholeheartedly.

“Mm, it feels - oh - I like this,” she moaned once she got the hang of it, rubbing herself against him in a way that Stannis suspected stimulated all her most sensitive spots at once.

He let her do exactly what she wanted as long as he could stand it, distracting himself by staring up at her and fondling her breasts after making sure she was amenable to it. But eventually he grabbed her by the waist and started to steer her. He moved her up and down until she caught on and started to bounce herself the way he wanted. Once he was sure she had figured out a good rhythm he started to thrust up to meet her, grunting with the effort and feeling that familiar hot sensation at the base of his spine start up.

“Sansa,” he gasped out, “I’m going to -”

The next sound out of him was nothing dignified, but he was too busy coming his brains out to care or notice.

_Bliss._

For a little while everything was just bliss, but all too soon Sansa was getting off him and he needed to deal with the condom, even though his muscles were a bit shaky.

It was nice to be able to stay awake after the obligatory clean-up was done, and it was even nicer to be able to hold Sansa to his chest and enjoy the afterglow with her.

“Is it always going to be like that?” Sansa asked at length, sounding satisfied and a little sleepy.

“Probably not,” he told her, unable to lie to her. Sex tended to be very different depending on the mood and the energy levels of the participants. “But hopefully it will always feel similarly good,” he added, not wanting her to worry.

“It’s better than I imagined it would be,” she whispered. “Joffrey always made it sound like it would be painful and humiliating.”

Stannis started to grind his teeth. That little _shit._

“I’m going to talk to Margaery about him when we’re all back in New York.” There was a sudden edge of steel to Sansa’s voice. “I can’t let her marry him without warning her.”

“I think that’s an excellent plan,” Stannis said, thinking that an even better plan would be to throw Joffrey off a cliff. He kept the thought to himself, however, and focused on holding Sansa tightly and wishing that she had never met his horrible nephew.

They cuddled for a little while longer, but eventually Sansa insisted that she had to shower and go to her hotel to pack up. He tried to convince her to let him shower with her, but she blushed beet-red and shook her head shyly.

Maybe she’d feel less embarrassed at the idea once they had lived together for a while. He hoped so as he rather liked the idea of showering with her.

His huge suite felt cavernous and empty once Sansa was gone, and Stannis had no idea what to do with himself while she was away.

It was ridiculous, but he already missed her.

Hopefully she would be back soon.


	6. A Trip to Alaska

Sansa had never flown to Juneau in as much comfort. She had flown first class before, but she had never had the comfort that Stannis provided her with. Maybe it would surprise some people to know how considerate a travel partner he was, but he was always making sure she was doing okay and trying to make the journey as painless as possible for her. He even let her use him as a pillow for a large part of the flight.

He wasn’t the softest pillow in the world, but having his arm around her and smushing her face against him, inhaling his scent and feeling the _safety_ of being under his protection, was enough to get her to relax more thoroughly than she could ever remember doing on a flight. (She wasn’t exactly a nervous flyer, but she wasn’t exactly not nervous, either.) She had even slept for a few hours, which was unheard of.

As a result, Sansa felt as well rested as it was possible to feel after traveling for most of the night, and she almost looked human when she checked her reflection in the passenger-side mirror of the rental car that transported her and Stannis from the airport to her parents’ house in North Douglas. It hadn’t been a very long drive, and it had flown by even faster due to the gorgeous scenery. Alaskan summers were short, but very very beautiful.

“Ready?” Stannis asked when he had finished parking the car.

Sansa didn’t really feel ready, but she said yes anyway. They walked to the front door of the handsome old house, affectionately known as Winterfell.

“Will someone be at home?” Stannis asked, not making a move to knock. It was Monday morning, so the question made sense.

“My mother,” Sansa said, stepping forward to try the door handle. She didn’t need to knock. She was always welcome in Winterfell.

“Mom?” she called out as soon as she had stepped into the foyer. “It’s me, Sansa.”

A noise could be heard from the kitchen. It sounded like someone had dropped something. The sound of hurried footsteps came next, and soon Sansa was being embraced very tightly by her smiling mother.

“Sansa!” Catelyn exclaimed when they broke apart, “what on earth are you doing home? I thought you were supposed to be in Las Vegas with your friends?”

Sansa felt herself blush and she looked over at Stannis and bit her lip. Her mother followed her gaze and gaped when she saw Stannis lurking in the doorway.

“You’re not Stannis Baratheon?” Sansa’s mother said, her tone completely baffled. “Won’t you come in and close the door,” she added after a moment of staring, her many years of being a gracious hostess kicking in. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

Sansa went along with her mother as she took their coats and ushered them towards the kitchen, talking about tea and offering to make breakfast.

“Maybe just some tea, thanks,” Sansa said, “please sit down, Mom. We have some - um - we have some news.”

Catelyn sat down at the kitchen table and looked at them expectantly.

Sansa wished her father didn’t go to work as early as he always did. It would be easier to tell both her parents at once.

“Stannis and I got married,” Sansa said, deciding to just say it. Like ripping off a band-aid.

Her mother froze. A minute went by where she did nothing but blink very fast.

“I’m sorry, I think I must have misheard,” Catelyn said when she finally stopped impersonating an inanimate object. “What did you just say?”

Sansa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again she glanced at Stannis for a moment, feeling glad to see him sitting nearby, looking calm and supportive.

“I met Stannis in Las Vegas and we got to talking. We found out that we have a lot in common and that we… I mean, what I’m trying to say is that we fell in love, Mom. We fell in love and we decided to get married.” Sansa exhaled a nervous breath once she finished talking. Stannis’ hand found hers underneath the table, and it felt good when he twined his fingers with hers.

Sansa’s mother stood up from the table, her chair making a loud scraping noise on the kitchen tiles.

“Darling!” Catelyn launched herself at Sansa, hugging her awkwardly since she was still seated and placing random kisses all over her head. “In love! Married!” she exclaimed in between kisses. Then, to Sansa’s amused dismay, her mother moved on to hug and kiss an uncomfortable-looking Stannis.

“Welcome to the family,” she said, sounding suddenly tearful.

Stannis looked incredibly shocked by her mother’s reaction at first, but Sansa saw the way he hid his surprise and smoothed out his features when Catelyn let him go.

“Thank you, Mrs. Stark,” he said, nodding at his mother-in-law.

“Call me Catelyn, or Cat if you like,” her mother said at once. She was fluttering about excitedly, clearly too worked up to sit back down. “Are you quite sure you don’t want breakfast? I can make whatever you want. Sansa? Some French toast? I know it’s your favourite. We should be celebrating!”

“You’re really okay with it?” Sansa couldn’t quite believe how well her mother was taking the news. “You’re not… you’re not upset that we didn’t wait?”

“Oh, I know what it’s like to fall in love like that,” her mother said with a wide smile. “I knew I’d marry your father almost as soon as we first met. Sometimes things are just meant to be.”

Sansa turned to face Stannis and they exchanged befuddled looks.

“You thought Joffrey and I were meant to be, too,” Sansa reminded her mother, feeling a bit sceptical.

Catelyn waved her hand impatiently. “Obviously you were on the right track. Maybe you were meant to be with him in order to meet his uncle. God has a plan, Sansa, and sometimes He works in mysterious ways.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. Her mother had been _thrilled_ when Sansa and Joffrey had announced their engagement. Catelyn was convinced that marrying into the Baratheon family was like becoming a Kennedy or a Rockefeller, and Sansa had thought so, too. For a while.

“I’m glad you’re happy for us,” Sansa said, deciding to just accept that her mother was pleased with the match and ignore that she was probably pleased for all the wrong reasons. “And we’re sorry that we had such a small wedding. I know you would have liked to throw a big party.”

“Oh, we can still plan a reception!” her mother exclaimed. “Isn’t that why you’re here? I’d be happy to help you organise everything. And you could have another ceremony, too!”

Sansa was too surprised to answer straight away. She looked at Stannis, wondering if he’d be up for a reception, but his face was blank.

“Um, let’s tell Dad before we start making any decisions like that,” Sansa eventually said, trying to stall.

“Of course, darling,” her mother said with a wide smile. “Now, are you sure you don’t want breakfast?”

Sansa’s mother ended up leaving Stannis and Sansa in the kitchen with their tea, a pile of regular toast and a few different toppings while she went and made the guest room up for them. 

“Your mother does not seem disappointed,” Stannis said, apparently attempting to make the understatement of the year.

“She’s kind of old-fashioned,” Sansa said apologetically, “she thinks the key to a happy life for women is to marry into a rich and powerful family. Education and feminism is for ugly girls and ‘weirdos’ like my sister.” 

Sansa felt a pang of loss when she thought about her ‘weirdo’ sister. After the debacle with Joffrey, Lady and Nymeria, Arya hadn’t stuck around. Arya had told Sansa that if she had any sense she would run far away from ‘that asshole’ and that if she needed her little sister, Arya would only be a phone call and a plane ride away. Still, Europe seemed like a really long way away sometimes, and now that Arya was training to be on the Olympic fencing team with some famous Italian coach it wasn’t if she had a lot of time to spare for her silly older sister.

“I see,” Stannis said with a frown.

“She doesn’t mean any harm,” Sansa explained, feeling the need to defend her mother, “she was just raised with a certain mentality. It can be hard to think outside the box you’ve lived in your whole life.” Not to mention how uncomfortable it was to attempt it. Sansa had tried to hold onto her box for as long as she could, and she had hated every part of the painful process of having the flimsy cardboard walls taken away from her.

Now that she was free of the constraints she was much happier, of course. But it had taken her a while of squinting at the sun before she had been able to enjoy the light.

“You managed it.” Stannis’ frown became less pronounced and there was something very soft about his eyes. 

“You don’t think I married you for your name and your money?” Sansa replied. She tried to smile, but there was a part of her that needed to hear his answer to her question, so she ended up giving Stannis a searching look.

“No.” Stannis took a thoughtful bit of his toast - topped with nothing but a bit of cheese - and shook his head slowly as he ate. “Although I would not blame you if it played a part. I did not marry you for your appearance, but it would not be correct or accurate to say that your looks did not affect my desire to marry you in any way.”

Sansa felt like she had heard something similar before and furrowed her brow, trying to remember. 

Suddenly it hit her.

“Are you trying to say,” Sansa began, affecting a breathless, sexy tone of voice, “that a man being rich is like a girl being pretty? You might not marry a girl just because she is pretty, but my goodness, doesn’t it help?”

Stannis looked confused for a moment, but then his eyes widened. “Marilyn Monroe,” he muttered, shooting her an amused look.

“Gentlemen Prefer Blondes,” she confirmed, nodding and smiling brightly.

“That’s not true,” Stannis said, reaching out to touch Sansa’s very red hair.

“You’d like me less if I were a blonde?”

“Well, I wouldn’t like you any more,” Stannis said, wrapping a lock of hair around his finger and bringing his face very close to hers. “That would not be possible.”

They kissed, and Sansa really couldn’t tell who initiated it. It was lingering and loving, and they both tasted delightfully of tea and toast, which gave it a very domestic flavour.

They went upstairs with their bags when Catelyn returned, and Sansa had to slap a hand across her mouth to keep from making some sort of embarrassing noise when she saw what her mother had done to the guest bed.

“What?” Stannis asked, noticing that she was not acting precisely normal.

Sansa squeaked out an incoherent sound and pointed at the bedspread in a helpless sort of way.

“You don’t like the bedspread?” Stannis guessed, furrowing his brow.

“I can’t _believe_ her,” Sansa moaned, burying her face in her hands.

“You’re going to have to help me understand.” Stannis sounded extremely puzzled.

“It’s Old Nan’s special bedspread. She bought it in China.” This was so _embarassing._

“It’s… nice?” Stannis was looking at her searchingly, obviously at a complete loss.

“No, it’s not nice!” Sansa started to drag the silk bedspread off the bed. “Help me fold it,” she instructed, feeling pleased when Stannis complied without a word. “It’s this Chinese… fertility bedspread. Old Nan thinks it had magical powers. Mom clearly wants us to start making babies.”

“Ah.” Stannis’ neck reddened a little.

“I’m okay with ignoring that this happened if you are?” Sansa suggested, not really wanting to discuss babies or the mortifying idea of having sex in her parents’ house.

Stannis nodded, looking relieved.

They finished folding the bedspread and putting it away, and somehow, even though they had managed to sleep a fair bit on the plane, they soon fell asleep on the comfortable bed.

It was lunchtime when they woke up, and the air smelled deliciously of some kind of rich soup.

There was a polite knock on their bedroom door before they managed to stir from their prone positions on the bed.

“Sansa?” It was her mother’s voice. “Are you awake? Your father’s home from work to eat lunch with us. I’ve told him you have some lovely news to share.”

Sansa sat up very quickly and made a nervous sound that was more of a squeak than anything else. She had thought she would have until late in the afternoon to prepare herself to share the news of her wedding with her father. 

“Be right there!” Sansa’s voice sounded a lot more panicked than it usually did, but it got her mother to retreat back downstairs, and that was all that mattered.

“Should we change?” she asked Stannis, looking anxiously down at herself and then at him. Their clothes were definitely a little travel worn. And slept in.

“It would probably make a better impression,” Stannis said, his voice hoarse with sleep.

They made it downstairs after Sansa broke a personal record in putting herself together: changing her clothes, brushing her hair and touching up her minimal makeup in only seven minutes.

“Perhaps I should wait out here until you’ve had a chance to tell your father you have someone with you?” Stannis suggested.

Sansa frowned, feeling a little like he wanted her to face her father alone.

“I’ll join you in there as soon as you’ve had a chance to tell your father about me.”

Maybe it would be better to ease into the news? It would be harder to do that with Stannis standing right next to her…

“Okay. But please come in as soon as you hear me mention your name.”

“Of course.” Stannis reached for her hand and brought the palm to his lips, kissing it gently while maintaining eye contact with her. It made her feel very warm all over, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Ned Stark was sitting at the kitchen table, hidden behind a newspaper. Sansa’s mother was busy stirring a large pot on the stove, but she gave Sansa an encouraging look.

“Dad?” Sansa said, wanting to gain her father’s attention.

Her father put the newspaper down and gave Sansa a mild, but affectionate smile. “Lemon drop,” he said, using a nickname Sansa hadn’t heard him use in _years._ “What brings you up north?”

“I have some news,” Sansa said, leaning back and trying to make eye contact with her hiding husband.

“Yes, your mother said.” Her father sounded quite curious.

Sansa stood up straight again. Hopefully Stannis would come in when she made the announcement like he had promised.

“I have someone with me. I’d like you to meet him.”

Her father looked intrigued. “Really?”

“Yes, and you actually know him,” she said, “it’s Stannis Baratheon.” She raised her voice so Stannis would definitely hear. Stannis walked into the kitchen almost at once, taking his place next to her. She felt his hand on the small of her back.

Her father looked at Stannis and blinked a few times. “Stannis?”

“We’re together, Dad.” Sansa took a deep breath. “We got married this weekend.”

Her father’s face froze into a blank mask. “What?”

“We got married,” Sansa repeated, inching closer to Stannis. “We’re in love.”

Her father blinked at her and then at Stannis. “Is this true?” he asked, direction the question at Stannis.

“Yes,” Stannis said, clearing his throat.

“How long have you been seeing each other?” her father asked, looking at both of them in turn.

Sansa lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “Since Saturday night.”

Her father furrowed his brow and looked down at the kitchen table for a moment. “That’s not a very long time.”

“We were perhaps a little impulsive,” Stannis admitted, “but we were not inebriated and we do not regret our decision.”

Sansa shot him a grateful smile for the input. She was sure that her father would listen to someone who spoke with such certainty and gravitas. She doubted he would listen to her.

“Do you agree?” her father asked, addressing her. “You do not regret your decision?”

Sansa opened and closed her mouth, feeling surprised that her father was acting so calm, and feeling even more surprised that he would want her opinion when he had already heard from Stannis. “Of course I don’t regret it,” she eventually managed to say. “I told you. We’re in love.”

Her mother made a happy sighing sort of sound over by the stove. Stannis stood up a little straighter.

Her father was silent for a long time and Sansa barely breathed while she waited for him to say something.

“You don’t think... “ Ned trailed off and gave Stannis an apologetic look. “I mean, the age difference,” he added, looking uncomfortable.

“Don’t be silly, Ned,” Sansa’s mother said, “we know plenty of couples with age gaps.”

Ned closed his mouth and nodded. He was silent for another long, tense moment.

Finally, he spoke. “I would have liked to have been there.” 

There was a sad, disappointed look on her father’s face that Sansa had rarely seen, and she felt her throat fill with a hard lump in response.

“Tell him what I suggested, Sansa!” her mother said.

Sansa looked at Stannis and he somehow managed to convey that it was up to her to decide what to say with a look and a small shrug.

“Mom suggested that Stannis and I should have another ceremony and a reception,” Sansa explained. She watched her father’s face anxiously, trying to read his expression.

“Is that what you want to do?” he asked, looking tentatively hopeful.

Sansa could hardly believe it. She hadn’t expected her father to care that much about the matter.

“Maybe in a few months,” Sansa said, looking at Stannis again to see his reaction. He did not seem displeased with what she was saying. “We’d need to do a bit more planning than we did this weekend.”

“Yes, and we have to find out if Trinity Church in New York is available for the ceremony,” her mother said at once. “It’s the only church that will do.”

Sansa had to work very hard not to frown. Trinity Church was where she had been meant to marry Joffrey.

“Why do you think she’d want a Christian wedding, Cat?” her father said, furrowing his brow.

“Well, she can’t get married according to your nonsense religion.” Catelyn rolled her eyes as if her husband was being ridiculous.

“Paganism is not a nonsense religion,” Ned insisted, “and pagan wedding ceremonies are very nice.”

“Stannis and I will have to discuss it, and we will decide where to have the ceremony. That is to say if we decide to have another ceremony at all,” Sansa said, putting her foot down before her parents got too carried away.

Both her father and her mother deflated a bit at those words, but they didn’t look upset.

“Well, in any case, I would like to congratulate you both,” her father said, standing up from the kitchen table. Sansa hurried to get up too, and was stunned when she was immediately engulfed in a warm embrace. Her father smelled like pine trees and fresh air, and she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She could feel him rubbing her back, and she couldn’t help tearing up a little when she realised it was the first proper hug she had received from him since she had moved away from home.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered. Inside her, the six year old that had never received as much attention from her father as she had wanted was practically crying with joy.

When they broke apart and her father approached Stannis, Sansa could see that Stannis was worried that Ned would hug him, too. Thankfully her father made do with shaking one of Stannis’ hands with both of his.

“I’m sure you will take good care of her,” her father said, his voice thick with emotion.

It was more than Sansa could stand. The tears that had been threatening to fall since her father had hugged her a moment ago started to spill over.

“What’s wrong?” Stannis immediately asked, the first to spot her tears.

“Nothing,” she said, hurriedly wiping her face, “just happy.” Her words sounded a little tremulous, and her smile was shaky, but it was true. She _was_ happy.

“Oh, darling,” her mother said, “come and have some soup.”

Sansa laughed and continued to wipe her tears away. _I’m being silly._ She shot a reassuring look at Stannis, trying to tell him without words that she was really okay, and went over to her mother and received a bowl of soup and a comforting smile.

“We did have some pictures taken,” Sansa said, suddenly remembering the bored photographer. “I haven’t seen them yet, but I’m sure we’ll be able to send you copies when we get them.” She glanced at Stannis, hoping that what she was saying was accurate. He nodded.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Catelyn exclaimed. “We can have your wedding portrait framed and placed right next to Robb’s, can’t we Ned?”

Her father smiled at her mother. “That would be nice.” He turned his smile on Sansa after that. “I’m glad you had some pictures taken. I’m sure you looked absolutely beautiful.”

A few more tears escaped, but Sansa managed to rein her emotions in after that.

They all ate lunch together, and to Sansa’s great surprise and relief, it was actually not awkward at all. Her father and Stannis ended up talking about rather boring work things for the most part, and her mother kept trying to steer the conversation towards wedding planning instead, but it all worked out somehow.

“Are you really all right?” Stannis asked once they were alone after lunch.

“Yes, I’m fine… I just, since I’ve never really been close to Dad I didn’t expect him to react the way he did.”

“Like he loves you?” Stannis said, furrowing his brow.

Sansa nodded and felt herself tearing up again.

Stannis seemed to understand what she needed better than she did, and was quick to envelop her in a very different sort of hug than the one she had received from her father. The way they were pressing the full lengths of their bodies against each other as if they were trying to fuse into one being was not appropriate for anyone but a lover.

“Of course he loves you,” Stannis said, still holding her tightly. “He’s your father.” He said the words like they were the simplest, most straightforward words he had ever said, and they meant more to Sansa because of it.

It was in that moment that Sansa realised that she would stay with Stannis for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fertility bedspread is inspired by Tommy and Betty White in _The Proposal._ ♥


	7. Candied Strawberries

“I’m not telling you this because I want to ruin things for you,” Sansa said, wringing her hands and giving Margaery an imploring look. “I just… I just can’t bear the thought of watching you tie yourself to him without telling you what he was really like with me.”

“It’s okay,” Margaery said, a forced smile on her face, “I know what you mean.”

Sansa blinked at Margaery in disbelief. “You do?”

“Of course.” Margaery shrugged and stared down at her cup of tea. “He managed to hide it at first, but I’m not stupid.”

“Then why are you going through with this?” Sansa asked, feeling confused and scared for Margaery. Sansa’s teacup was still untouched.

“Don’t tell anyone, but my grandmother has a plan.”

Sansa furrowed her brow. “What sort of plan?”

“I can’t tell you.” There was a very enigmatic look on Margaery face as she took a delicate sip from her teacup.

“Well… all right,” Sansa said, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Margaery knew what she was doing with Joffrey. She wasn’t walking blindly towards a horrible fate. There was some sort of plan in place and everything would be just _fine._

“Thank you for warning me.” Margaery reached across the table and clasped one of Sansa’s hands. “And congratulations again!”

The serious mood that had dominated Stannis’ apartment since the topic of Joffrey had been raised was suddenly lifted.

Sansa blushed and ducked her head. “Thank you.”

“This really is a lovely apartment,” Margaery said, looking around with a smile. “Did you redecorate?”

“A little,” Sansa admitted. The apartment had been very nice when she had moved in a little over a week ago, but it had lacked a lot of the warmth and the personal touches that she had added. Everything had been very spartan and functional. But there were a lot of open spaces, high ceilings and large windows. It had not been difficult to make the bright, airy apartment seem a little less austere. It had been the work of a weekend.

“And you’re still convinced that Stannis is the ‘One’?”

Sansa smiled and looked down at her hands. “Maybe it’s crazy, but yes. I really think so. He’s wonderful.”

“I’ve never heard anyone describe Stannis that way,” Margaery said with a laugh. “You must be in love!”

Sansa looked up and bit her lip, trying not to look too sappy. Judging by the amused look on Margaery’s face she hadn’t succeeded.

“How are the plans for the second wedding going?”

“You really want to talk about wedding planning?” Sansa asked, raising an eyebrow. “I would have expected you to be thoroughly sick of wedding talk by now.”

“Not at all!” Margaery gave Sansa an encouraging smile and seemed genuinely interested in what Sansa had to say.

“Well, like I told you, we’ve barely started to plan anything concrete. We’re stuck on where to have the ceremony.”

“I think it’s obvious where you should have the ceremony,” Margaery said, standing up from the sofa and leaving her cup on the coffee table. She walked over to the wall where Sansa had hung a fair few framed photographs and pointed at an old picture of Stannis and his friend Davos aboard a sailboat. It was hanging right next to Sansa’s favourite picture from the wedding, where she and Stannis were looking at each other like the rest of the world didn’t even exist. “You should have the ceremony at sea!”

Sansa laughed. “You’re not serious?”

“Of course I’m serious! I’ve always loved the idea of being married by the captain of a ship. It’s so romantic.”

“You think so?” Sansa asked, no longer laughing.

“Yes, definitely. I mean, didn’t you ever watch the Little Mermaid?”

A warm, nostalgic feeling swept through Sansa at the thought of one of her favourite films, and she had to agree that Ariel’s wedding to Prince Eric at the end had been very romantic. Even though the wedding dress had featured ridiculously puffy sleeves. Sansa told Margaery as much.

“Shut up, I love those puffy sleeves,” Margaery said with a mock glare.

“You would,” Sansa said, rolling her eyes theatrically.

Margaery jokingly elbowed her in the side, and the pair of them burst out laughing.

***

“I spoke to Margaery today,” Sansa told him as they sat and ate their dinner.

“Yes?” He hoped Sansa had told Margaery about her experience with Joffrey. It was obvious that the matter weighed on her, and he was certain she would feel better for sharing her concerns with her friend. It was always best to tell the truth.

“I told her about Joffrey, and it turns out that she knows exactly what she’s getting herself into. Her grandmother has some sort of plan, apparently. But I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”

Interesting. What sort of plan could Olenna Tyrell have? Stannis was fairly sure it was a plan that would benefit the Tyrells in some way, but they could hardly intend to kill his beastly nephew. That would be taking things a bit far. Even though Margaery could stand to benefit hugely as Joffrey’s widow.

“Did she say what sort of plan?” he asked, not feeling very optimistic. The Queen of Thorns always played things close to the vest.

Unsurprisingly, Sansa shook her head. “No, but she did make a pretty interesting suggestion regarding a venue for our second wedding ceremony.”

“Oh?”

“She thinks we should have the wedding at sea and have the captain of a ship officiate.”

Stannis raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever heard. “Do you agree?”

“At first I thought she was joking, but the idea has sort of grown on me. But we don’t have to do it if you think it’s stupid.” Sansa said the last few words in a rush, biting her lip a little nervously.

“It would be easy enough to arrange,” Stannis said with a shrug, trying to put her at ease, “but we’d either have to have the wedding very soon or wait until next summer. We’d want the ocean to be relatively still.”

“I think we should wait until next summer,” Sansa said at once. “Margaery’s wedding is just around the corner and I don’t want to compete with that.”

“All right.” He waited for a few beats to see if Sansa meant to continue the conversation, but she just smiled at him. There was a look in her eyes that he was sure he would never get tired of seeing: a bright, loving look that made him feel like he was _important._

They finished their meal in companionable silence, but Stannis kept getting more and more distracted by the idea of Sansa on the deck of a ship, wearing a flowing white dress and holding a bouquet of pink roses. (Her favourite.) Would her hair be loose? Would it blow gently in the sea breeze along with her dress?

"What are you thinking about?" Sansa asked, smiling as she had just caught him staring for the fifth time. They had just put their dirty plates away and were standing in the kitchen.

"Nothing," he said, closing the distance between them in order to place a kiss on Sansa's lips. She tasted of the lemonade she had been drinking at the table.

"I think it was something," Sansa breathed when their lips came apart. Her eyes were sparkling.

"And I think we should go to bed," Stannis countered in a husky voice, doing his best to sound confident. He thought he did a passable job of it, but the fact was that he was still a bit unsure when it came to asking for physical intimacy with Sansa. She had been responding well to his advances, and had even initiated a bit of exploration herself, but for some reason he couldn’t help but feel he was overstepping whenever he asked her to go to bed with him. Maybe it was just that it had been less than two weeks since the wedding, and when Sansa had got her period the day they had arrived in New York it had put a lot of their physical exploring on hold. Stannis was also still just getting used to being in a relationship. A romantic, sexual relationship. With his _wife._

“So early?” Sansa said, using an innocent tone that was somehow anything but innocent.

“I didn’t mean that we should go to sleep,” Stannis clarified. He was aware that he probably didn’t need to clarify this, but he did it anyway, just to be sure.

Sansa laughed and kissed him. “What do you want to do, then?” she asked with an amused glint in her eyes.

Stannis felt himself redden. “I think you know,” he said, feeling both aroused and a little embarrassed. Was it terribly greedy of him to want sex right after dinner? Should he have tried to suppress the urge until later?

“I think you should tell me anyway,” Sansa said, her amused countenance becoming more teasing and so much more _tempting._ It was enjoyable not only because of how arousing it was, but also because Sansa had only just started to seem comfortable with teasing him like this, and he knew that it meant that she was becoming more at ease with him and the idea of sex in general.

For a moment he considered abandoning his policy of restraining himself when it came to his physical relationship with Sansa, and just throwing her over his shoulder and taking her to bed. There were so many things he wanted to do with her that he wasn’t sure if she was ready for, and when she teased him like she was teasing him right now it got a bit harder to remember that he was her first sex partner and that he had to be careful with her. He had to let her discover things at her own pace and wait for her to show him that she was ready to be a little adventurous.

 _We’re married,_ he thought as he clenched his jaw, _we have all the time in the world. You just have to be patient._

“I want to take your clothes off,” he said, locking eyes with her and trying to tell her without words how much he needed her.

Sansa pressed herself more tightly against him, turning their loose embrace into something more along the lines of foreplay. He was unable to keep his hips from moving, and pressed himself firmly against her, seeking more contact and a little friction.

“I can tell,” she whispered, pushing her own hips forwards to meet his. 

He blew out a shaky breath and let his hands trail down from their polite perch at her waist until his palms grasped her ass in a firm hold that was anything but polite. He used his grip on her perfect curves to pull her closer and hold her still, rubbing himself against her obscenely.

They stared at each other for a moment, both flushed and a little out of breath, and kissed. It was messy and eager and _wet_ , but Stannis loved the soft, yielding feel of Sansa’s mouth.

Fuck, he really wanted to feel her mouth on his cock. She had yet to offer to reciprocate the oral sex he liked to give her, and he had yet to ask, but every time they kissed like this he couldn’t help but imagine how maddeningly delicious her tongue would feel if she ever licked him.

He knew he should be satisfied with what she seemed comfortable with so far, and he knew he had no right to demand head when she was so happy to spread her legs for him and let him take her the way a man traditionally took his wife, but he was nonetheless becoming more consumed with the idea of her lips around his cock with every day that went by.

“What do you want to do after you take my clothes off?” Sansa asked when their kiss broke, blushing faintly. Her pupils were blown out, however, and everything about her was warm with arousal.

Did she want him to… talk dirty? He was starting to think she really liked that. His heart was beating faster at the thought, and he swallowed a few times, hoping that he wasn’t misunderstanding her.

“I’d ask you to undress me, too,” he said, deepening his voice unconsciously. He liked the mental image of Sansa slowly unbuttoning his shirt for him, wearing nothing at all, but he liked the mental image of her on her knees in front of him - undoing his fly and looking up at him with her gorgeous blue eyes - even more.

“And then?” Sansa had her arms wrapped around his neck and she was pressing her breasts against him even as he was still groping her ass and rubbing himself against her.

They should really move to the bedroom.

“And then I’d ask you what you’d like to do,” he said, locking the filthy words at the tip of his tongue away. He’d scare her with his ideas of having her kneel naked at his feet and suck his cock.

“What if I don’t know?” Sansa asked, biting her lip and tilting her head to the side.

“Perhaps we should go to the bedroom and find out?” he suggested in a rush, needing _something_ to happen soon.

“Okay.” The word left her lips with a rush of air, and Stannis felt his cock twitch at the breathless sound of her agreement.

As the hurried to the bedroom Stannis thought about how odd it was that his mind had been more or less consumed by thoughts of sex ever since he had married Sansa. Before he had met her he had only thought about sex very rarely, and certainly not with as much anticipation. He had always considered Robert vulgar for being so occupied with ‘getting laid’, but now he was starting to understand the obsession.

With Sansa it was hard not to be occupied with trying to ‘get laid’. Sex with her was just _more._ It made him feel complete and satisfied in ways he had never experienced before, and he wished he could simply live between her legs. It felt so viscerally _good_ to get inside her and hear her sighs of pleasure, feel how she accepted him and loved him, and watch as she came apart due to his touch.

… due to his _cock._

He did as he said he would once they reached the bedroom, undressing her with movements that were not quite practised, but not quite uncertain, either. She was wearing a dress she had not worn in his presence before, and there was a hidden clasp that had to be undone before he could get to the zipper. He figured it out without too much trouble, but the delay made him huff out an irritated breath all the same. He wanted her naked, and he wanted it _now._

Her lingerie was simple, but very pretty. Light blue with little white ribbons. It was almost a shame to take it off, but as much as he liked the way her bras held her breasts up, he really preferred doing it himself with his hands.

Sansa moaned when he gave her nipples kisses and began to move his hands down towards her panties, dragging the thin material over her hips and down her thighs. They dropped over her knees and to her feet on their own, and Sansa stepped out of them obligingly, arching her back and tugging on his hands to indicate that she wanted him to touch her breasts again.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered, “it’s your turn.”

He had discovered two nights ago that she turned to butter in his hands when he called her sweetheart in bed. He didn’t usually go for those sorts of endearments, but one had slipped out by accident when he had buried himself to the hilt in her warmth and his brain short-circuited, and she had _moaned_ and he had kept doing it just to see if he could get her to keep moaning like that. In the end she had clenched so hard around him that he had nearly passed out from the pleasure of it.

Sansa was eager to take his clothes off now that it was her turn, and he did his best to praise her, even though he was not used to heaping praise on anyone. Just as she liked his endearments, she _glowed_ with pleasure whenever he offered her words of encouragement and praise, and Stannis had decided that he could overcome his awkwardness when it came to saying such thing in order to produce such a beautiful effect.

“I like that,” he said in a low voice when she used the flat of her hands to stroke his torso after removing his shirt. “Your hands feel perfect.”

“Yeah?” she said, smiling hopefully at him as she moved her hands down towards his belt.

“Yes.” His breath hitched in his throat when she cupped his erection through his trousers.

She divested him of the rest of his clothing very quickly, but it still felt like a long time to Stannis. An instant would have felt like too long.

Sansa hesitated once they were both naked and gave Stannis an uncertain look.

“What would you like to do?” he asked, trying to sound calm and in control. It was difficult when his cock was jumping and twitching in an effort to make him seem completely desperate.

For some reason Sansa looked towards her purse. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to try…” she said, chewing on her bottom lip and blushing.

“What is it?” he asked. And what did it have to do with her purse?

Sansa went to her purse and opened it. She rummaged around for a bit, but after a moment she produced a small box of condoms. It was red, and sported some sort of lurid legend that he couldn’t quite read from where he was standing.

“Condoms?” he said, feeling confused. They had plenty of condoms. They still hadn’t run out of the ones he had bought in Vegas, despite being quite respectably active.

“They’re the flavoured kind,” Sansa said, blushing even more deeply, “strawberry.”

Stannis almost started to hyperventilate. Flavoured condoms were for blowjobs. _Flavoured condoms were for blowjobs._

He didn’t care that a strawberry flavoured condom would probably be a violent pink colour. If it meant that Sansa would put her mouth on him he would wear any colour of the rainbow without a word.

“Can I put one on you?” she asked, smiling a little nervously.

He couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. _Could this really be happening?_

Sansa removed a foil packet from the box and went over to the bed. He hurried after her, but stopped short of getting on it. Would she want him to sit on the edge? Lie down? Stand?

He bit back a groan when she looked at the floor, frowned, and then removed a pillow from bed and dropped it at his feet.

“You can sit down if you want,” she said, her cheeks crimson and her body language shy.

“Is that would you would prefer?” he asked, willing to do whatever she wanted.

“No, it’s okay if you’d rather stand,” Sansa said, blinking rapidly and fiddling with the foil packet in her hands.

“Then I would rather stand,” he said, his voice coming out very hoarse. His heart was racing at the idea of having her kneel in front of him. Even if she was just going to put the condom on and have a few licks he would be _thrilled._

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and knelt on the pillow in front of him. His hand immediately went to her hair, and he started to stroke her gently in a way that he knew she liked. This seemed to put her at ease and she smiled up at him. The sight had his heart skipping a beat and his lungs malfunctioning.

She was _gorgeous._

His cock jumped rather eagerly, and Sansa’s smile became amused. “I think you like this,” she said, sounding confident even though she was still blushing.

“I like it very much,” he rasped, caressing the nape of her neck.

“I haven’t done anything yet,” she said, still amused.

“You’ve given me a good view,” he murmured, shooting her a heated look.

Sansa ducked her head and breathed out a bit of a giggle. His lips quirked in response, but the beginning of his smile didn’t take root. Sansa had removed the condom from its packet and had started to put it on, and he was forced to clench his jaw at the sensation of her fingers on him. Not even the fact that the condom was just as violently pink as he had suspected could distract him from how good it felt.

She rolled the condom on slowly, and he allowed himself a groan at the pleasurable touch. “That’s it, sweetheart. Just like that.”

When she was done she looked up at him, her eyes full of love and excitement. “Is it okay if I taste it?” she asked, clearly curious about the flavour the condom promised.

“God, yes,” he moaned, his fingers flexing as he moved them through her hair. It was tempting to just pull her head to his groin.

It was torture to keep still when her tongue darted out to lick at the side of his latex-covered cock. It was even more painful to keep himself from begging her to continue when she stopped to look up at him again.

“It sort of tastes like candied strawberries,” she said, licking her lips.

“Oh?” he said, his voice very strained. He didn’t want her to say anything else. He wanted her to go back to licking. He wanted her to _suck._

 _Don’t be greedy,_ he thought, feeling annoyed with himself.

“It’s not bad,” she added, surprising him by giving his cock another, much longer lick. She started at the very base and worked her way to the tip, using the flat of her tongue. “I think I like it.”

He made a slightly garbled sound before clenching his jaw shut.

“Is it good for you?” she asked in the sort of innocent tone that told him that she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

He nodded frantically and tightened his hold on the back of her head.

Thankfully she seemed to understand what that meant. She began to lick him without stopping to chat, gripping him gently by the base to keep his cock still.

He closed his eyes, groaned and allowed his head to fall backwards, stretching his neck.

Unfortunately she just kept holding him gently and licking in that teasing way. It felt good, but it was not nearly enough. He needed her to tighten her grip and start to suck, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. It felt very rude to demand such things, and he was determined to let her explore and learn at her own pace. 

He was determined not to be greedy.

He breathed deeply and focused on enjoying what he had for a minute or two, instead of thinking about what he _didn’t_ have.

… But surely it was not so very rude to tell her what he liked? Just telling her would not be the same as demanding it, would it?

“Please,” he said, unable to restrain himself for much longer, “could you… more…”

She stopped.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ Had he ruined it? He looked down at her in a panic, searching her face and trying to see if she was offended.

“More how?” she asked, looking curious more than anything. (His heart rate slowed down a fraction.)

“You don’t have to,” he hurriedly said, not wanting to pressure her.

“I’d like to,” she said at once, “you always make it feel so good for me. It’s only fair.”

He immediately wanted to propose to her. Again. “Move your hand,” he instructed, trying not to sound like he was ordering her around. She had often touched his cock, gripping him firmly and moving her hand up and down. He was just... reminding her that he liked it.

“Oh, like a handjob?”

 _Fuck yes._ “That’s perfect.”

She glowed. “What should I do with my mouth?” she asked, looking determined and ready to learn.

He couldn’t think of a delicate way to put it. “Just… suck,” he said, feeling his face redden. “And please be careful with your teeth,” he added.

Sansa nodded. “Tell me when it’s good.” She started to suck on the head of his cock.

“It’s good, god Sansa, it’s so fucking good,” he immediately began to babble, using his fingers to massage the back of her head. “Suck it just like that, sweetheart. Just like that.”

Stannis wasn’t sure how much time went by. He was in a state of utter bliss, and all he could do was keep murmuring encouraging words and _enjoying._ Eventually he got close to coming, however, and as his orgasm approached his need became greater.

“Please, Sansa, please,” he moaned, needing her to go faster, grip harder, take his cock in just a _little_ deeper…

She stopped again. 

He had to use a _lot_ of discipline in order not to whimper.

“I can’t do what they do in those porno films,” she told him, looking up at him in dismay, her face fire engine red and her eyes wide.

_Sansa had watched porn films?_

His mind went blank for a moment before he realised that she thought he had been asking her to deepthroat him.

“No, that’s not - that’s not what I was asking for,” he quickly explained, “I just meant… could you go faster? Suck a bit harder?” His face felt very warm, and he had to work hard not to let her reference to pornography lead his thoughts astray.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, looking embarrassed. “I think I can manage that.”

Thankfully she got back to it right away, following his instructions to the letter.

It felt _amazing._

“Yes, yes, yes,” he choked out, “god, fuck, yes, that’s it, that’s it…” He trailed off into incoherence, grunting and groaning and trying very hard not to use his grip on her head to steer her or allow his hips to start thrusting the way they were desperate to.

She stopped _again._

This time he couldn’t keep from whimpering. He looked down at Sansa, hoping to find out why she was tormenting him.

“Do you want to take the condom off?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

If he hadn’t been seconds from coming he might have asked her if that was what she wanted, and whether she was up to having him come in her mouth, and all those considerate, polite questions. But he was too far gone to do anything except tear the condom off and hiss out a breath when he felt the glorious sensation of her mouth on his bare cock.

She faltered for a few seconds, clearly getting used to how different it felt to pleasure him without the condom in place, but soon she was back to sucking the head and stroking the shaft with her hand, establishing the fast rhythm she had been maintaining before. He was looking down at her in greedy awe, and when she glanced up at him, making eye contact and looking loving and gorgeous and _perfect,_ he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck, I’m going to -”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. Instead his groaned like he’d just been kicked in the balls, even though the opposite was true.

Sansa kept going at the same fast pace, sucking hard and swallowing everything he gave her. He would have enjoyed it thoroughly, but unfortunately it was a bit much now that he was sensitive due to his release.

“Sansa, sweetheart, slow down,” he moaned, using his hands to try to still her head.

She slowed down and started to lick him the way she had at the beginning.

“ _Fuck._ ” He hadn’t really meant to say that out loud. “That’s perfect, sweetheart, it’s amazing… you’re amazing, I love you...”

His legs were starting to feel a little like they might stop holding him up at any second, so even though he was a bit sad when she stopped licking him, he was also relieved at the opportunity to sit down on the bed. Sansa got up and sat down next to him almost at once, and soon they ended up lying in bed, pressed tightly to each other and sharing too much body heat.

“Did you really like it?” Sansa asked after they got comfortable. She didn’t really sound as if she doubted it, but he answered her anyway.

“I loved it.” He wanted her to be absolutely sure that he enjoyed it as he was hoping she’d be more likely to do it again in the future that way.

“Yeah?” she murmured, writhing against him and tugging at one of his hands, bringing it to her chest. She obviously wanted him to touch her now. He started to fondle one of her breasts, tracing circles around the nipple with his thumb and enjoying the way she sighed with pleasure.

“You were perfect,” he whispered, pinching her nipple lightly.

She twisted around until she had one of his thighs between hers and started to rub herself against him very deliberately. He could feel how hot and how _wet_ she was.

Had sucking him off turned her on?

“Shall I assume you liked it too, then?” he asked, raising an eyebrow even though she probably wouldn’t be able to see him do it with her face buried against his chest.

She moaned an affirmative sort of sound and started to rub herself against him more eagerly, making him wish he could get hard again at once.

“Would you like me to return the favour?”

Another, more desperate moan.

“Spread your legs.”

He really did not mind going down on Sansa, but he was not too proud to admit - at least to himself - that he enjoyed the idea of it a little bit more now that he felt reasonably sure he would be getting some oral sex in return every now and then.

But right now he wasn’t really thinking about his future chances of receiving more blowjobs. Right now he was thinking about how incredibly wet she’d feel on his cock after he’d hopefully given her at least one or two orgasms and managed to get it up again.

It had been less than two weeks, and he’d only done it a handful of times, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get tired of the erotic feel of her spread thighs making room for his head, of being completely surrounded by the scent of her arousal, of feeling her hands grasping at his hair and the nape of his neck, and the sound of her moans becoming more drawn out, louder and eventually turning into high-pitched cries of pleasure.

She was so incredibly _soft._ Her folds were perhaps the softest part of her, and then came her lips, closely followed by the skin of her inner thighs, her breasts and then her silky hair…

By the time she was pushing herself against his mouth and doing her best to hold his head in place, gasping his name and begging him not to stop, he was uncomfortably hard and consumed by one thought, and one thought only:

How would she let him take her?

Should he make a suggestion or leave it completely up to her to decide how she wanted him? She usually preferred to go along with whatever he was in the mood for, but sometimes she seemed to want particular things. She had asked a few times to be on top, but most often she seemed to prefer variations of the missionary.

He had almost worked up the nerve to ask her to let him enter her from behind once, but he had changed his mind at the last second and asked to take her from the side instead, spooning his body against hers and rocking into her gently.

Maybe he wouldn't chicken out now?

Once it seemed like she was down from her peak, Stannis didn’t waste much time sitting back on his heels and making eye contact with his slightly sweaty and mussed up wife. Her eyes were barely open, but she smiled at him, so he knew she could see him.

His hand had somehow drifted to his groin, and he tugged on himself a little impatiently even as he mentally told himself to have patience.

“More?” he asked, his voice husky and deep. He needed to know if she was up for anything else before he took the conversation anywhere else. If she was too tired for sex it would be pointless to debate positions.

Sansa appeared to think it over, but soon she was biting her lip and nodding. “Yeah, okay,” she said, glancing between his legs and going a bit pink.

“What would you like?” he asked. He was up for anything, but a big part of him was hoping she would turn the question back on him.

“I can’t decide,” she said, “what are you in the mood for?”

He inhaled deeply and swallowed, hoping that the next words out of his mouth wouldn’t get her to change her mind about letting him have her.

“I was wondering if you’d like to… turn around?”

Sansa immediately turned fire engine red again, but she didn’t protest. She simply gave him a shy sort of look and got on her hands and knees.

Not wanting to delay and risk losing this chance, he only gave himself a few seconds to admire the view before hurriedly getting himself into position behind her, spreading this thighs to line himself up with her entrance and tugging on his cock a few more times.

“Don’t forget a condom,” Sansa said right as he had been about to start using the head of his cock to feel how wet she was.

He probably set some sort of record when he hastily dived for the box of condoms from Vegas, ripped open a foil packet and rolled the thing on as if he did it for a living. He was back in position, this time fully protected, in the space of a few heartbeats.

His cock found her entrance without much trouble, and he rubbed himself against the wet opening without pressing forward, letting her get used to feeling him from this direction.

"Okay?" he said, needing to know if she was truly comfortable with doing this.

"Yeah, it's - mm - it's good." Sansa's voice was a little muffled as she was resting her elbows and head on a pillow.

He gave into the urge to thrust, groaning at the warmth he was immediately surrounded by. There really was nothing like that first moment after making it inside...

Sansa emitted a sound that made him think she was at once startled and pleased, and he hoped she would continue to enjoy this. He knew he’d be able to stop if she changed her mind, but it would be so good if it didn’t come to that.

He made himself move slowly at first, waiting with bated breath for her to make more noises and indicate whether she wanted him to keep going or stop. He almost forgot to listen to her due to the distracting sight of his own cock moving in and out of her, the condom glistening with lubricant and her natural moisture.

“Could you -” Sansa gasped out, “more…”

“Harder?” he asked, feeling his skin flush with excitement. 

“Yes, please,” she said, moaning into her pillow.

“You want it hard?” He sped up and started to use more force, loving the smacking sounds his movements were now creating, “like this?”

“Yes!” She had started to gasp out a noise in time with his every thrust, and he loved that even more than the sounds of their bodies colliding.

“Tell me what you like,” he demanded through gritted teeth, needing to hear her voice since he couldn’t see her face. Needing to know that she was loving this as much as he was.

“Hard, I like it hard - oh - just - just like this, please!”

It was perhaps not the most logical conversation he had ever had with her, but Stannis didn’t really think they were using their higher powers of reasoning at the moment. He most certainly wasn’t. All he was thinking about was how fucking good he felt, how long he’d be able to last, and how regularly he would be able to convince her to do this in the future.

“Can you take more?” he asked when he could feel his balls tightening up and his spine doing its best to melt. He didn’t have a lot of energy left, but he knew he’d be able to go out with a bang if she’d let him.

“God, yes, yes!” Her voice was muffled but desperate, and he was fairly sure she was close.

Gripping her hips tightly he started to fuck her with everything he had left, thrusting so hard and so quickly that his nerve endings barely had time to keep up with all the signals of utter pleasure that were being sparked. Wet thwacks and loud smacks filled the room, less than a second of silence between each one, and Sansa’s moans and his own grunts accompanied them, creating a pornographic sort of symphony.

He would never be able to sustain such a pace for long, so it came as both a relief and a disappointment when his climax washed over him. A relief because he would be able to slow down now, and a disappointment because he had been in that perfect zone of pure sexual pleasure, and it was always sad to leave it. He kept going at a slower pace, focusing on the way Sansa was clenching greedily around him, milking him for all he was worth. There was pleasure in coming down from his high, though it was not the intense bliss of the last few seconds before his release, and he fed off of Sansa’s pleasure, too.

“Don’t stop…” Sansa moaned when he made himself likely to pull away. “It’s so good…”

He was getting very tired, and his thighs were starting to complain, but he did as she asked and stayed inside her, fucking her lightly and hoping that he wouldn’t go limp too soon. He usually stayed somewhat hard for a minute or two after he came.

Eventually there was nothing more he could do for her, so he slipped out despite her moan of protest. They ended up with their limbs tangled around each other, sweaty and sticky with the evidence of what they had been doing, but Stannis didn’t care. He liked it.

“I can’t believe how good that felt,” Sansa said after a long silence. She sounded shy and a little amazed. “You were hitting a spot inside me that was just..” she trailed off and made a throaty sound that made his stomach do a flip.

“Does that mean you’d be willing to try that position again sometime?” he asked, feeling fairly confident that he’d get the answer he wanted.

“Definitely.” She sounded embarrassed, but also quite confident. “I mean, it’s good for you too, isn’t it?” she added.

“It’s _very_ good,” he murmured, tightening his arms around her.

She made a pleased sound that made his stomach do another little flip, and he couldn’t resist the impulse to kiss her. The kiss turned into several kisses, and before he knew it, he was necking like a teenager.

Sansa giggled when they came up for air a while later. “We should really go have a shower.”

Stannis would much rather stay in bed until he could convince his cock to get hard again, but he knew it would probably take a while. A shower was perhaps the wiser option. His lips quirked with amusement when he recalled how shy Sansa had been at the idea of showering with him when they had still been in Vegas. For some reason she had changed her mind fairly quickly after the first time she had seen him wet from the shower in nothing but a towel.

In the end he managed to get hard while under the spray, and narrowly avoided injuring himself as he fucked his wife against the slippery tiles. 

Even if he had broken a bone or two it would have been worth it.


	8. Brunch

Once Renly found out about the wedding (apparently Loras Tyrell blabbed) there was no avoiding the event Stannis had been dreading since Vegas.

He had to tell Robert. If Stannis didn’t do it, Renly would.

Luckily - or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it - Stannis would be able to tell Robert about Sansa at the pretentious brunch Cersei was throwing for Joffrey and Margaery. It was a part of the official wedding program, and Stannis would not have been able to get out of going since he was - unfortunately - quite closely related to Joffrey. Stannis was hoping that Robert wouldn’t be able to make too much of an issue of the matter with Cersei and all the Tyrells around. On the other hand, if Robert did make a scene, it would be that much more awkward with all those witnesses present.

“How do I look?” Sansa asked, biting her lip nervously and smoothing down the skirt of her pale purple sundress.

“Beautiful,” he told her, wishing he had more of a way with words. She looked much more than beautiful. She had obviously taken great care with her appearance, somehow getting her hair to do those perfect ringlet things, using subtle touches of makeup to enhance her natural beauty, coaxing her skin to practically glow with health and vitality, and donning that flattering dress with a pair of very dainty high-heeled sandals.

She blushed and ducked her head. “Thank you.”

“I mean it,” he said, “you’ll put the bride-to-be to shame.”

“Oh, no,” Sansa was shaking her head, “I could never do that. Margaery is so pretty.”

Stannis raised a sceptical eyebrow but decided not to fight her on this. In his lifetime he had picked up on the fact that women had some sort of ridiculous code when it came to weddings and how no woman was allowed to outshine the bride.

They went to the car and set off for the brunch venue.

“Do you think Robert will say something very inappropriate?” Sansa asked once she had applied more lip gloss for the third time.

“He might. You know what he’s like.”

Robert had been all set to become Sansa’s father-in-law only to become her brother-in-law. Stannis knew that she hadn’t been very close to him while she had been engaged to Joffrey, but she had met him often enough. She had also met him fairly often when she had been growing up due to Robert’s friendship with Ned.

“I hope he’s nice about it,” Sansa said with a subdued little sigh. “It will be hard enough to deal with Joffrey’s comments.”

“Don’t worry about Joffrey.” Stannis grabbed the steering wheel a bit harder than was strictly necessary. “He’s always been terrified of me. Just stay close and he probably won’t give you any trouble.”

“He’s terrified of you?” Sansa sounded very intrigued.

“I’ve never had much patience for him.” 

That was an understatement. Stannis had always made sure that Joffrey knew that he did not tolerate the sort of behaviour Robert barely seemed aware of and Cersei blatantly allowed the boy to get away with. Stannis had hardly ever spoken to the boy, but he had always made sure to be as intimidating as he could possibly be whenever he was near Joffrey. Stannis could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, and as he usually made sure to have his gun on him if he had to be around Cersei, it meant that Joffrey had never seen him without it. Stannis was fairly sure Joffrey was under the impression Stannis would quite happily use it on him if provoked, and Stannis had never done anything to dissuade him from thinking that. Stannis had yet to actually resort to violence when it came to Joffrey, but there had been one time, after discovering that Joffrey had murdered a litter of kittens in cold blood, that he had picked Joffrey up and given him such a deliberately frightening speech that the boy had wet himself.

Maybe Stannis should have felt bad about doing that to a kid, but there was just something _wrong_ with Joffrey.

The rest of the drive went by in silence, the air thick with anticipation.

“Ready?” Stannis asked before they entered the room where they could hear the Baratheons, Lannisters and Tyrells chattering away.

Sansa took a deep breath, straightened her back and nodded. “Let’s go.”

“We should talk to Robert before he has a chance to down too many Mimosas,” Stannis said once they were inside. Everyone was mingling, standing around and holding little plates of food and flutes of orange liquid, and no one had noticed them yet.

“Sure,” she agreed, her eyes lingering on Joffrey and Margaery. They were standing on the other side of room, talking to Cersei and Olenna Tyrell.

Robert was near the buffet table, sitting in a wheelchair with both his legs sticking out, his casts covered in messages written in marker. He was carrying a plate that was piled high with bacon, and looking much more pleased than anyone with two broken legs had any right to look.

He grinned widely when he spotted them. “Stannis! Sansa! How are you? Grab some Mimosas, they’re delicious.”

“You know I don’t partake,” Stannis said, frowning at his brother.

“That doesn’t mean Sansa can’t have a glass. I reckon she could use one. Or two.”

Stannis bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure Robert is just being a good host,” Sansa said, placing a hand on his bicep and stroking him gently with her thumb.

Robert noticed the familiar touch and raised an eyebrow. “Do you two know each other?”

“We met a few weeks ago,” Sansa said, smiling prettily at them both in turn.

“Oho?” Robert put a strip of bacon in his mouth and chewed it with gusto. “And Stannis managed to make a good impression?” He chuckled and washed his bacon down with a generous gulp of his alcohol-laced orange juice.

“Why wouldn’t I make a good impression?” Stannis asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Before Robert had a chance to respond to the question, Sansa distracted him.

“Stannis made a very good impression. He took me to see Britney.”

“Britney? Did you two meet in Vegas?” Robert’s eyebrows climbed all the way up to his hairline.

“Yes,” Stannis confirmed, his tone curt.

Sansa chose this moment to reach for a Mimosa, and the movement caused the sunlight that was streaming in through the tall windows of the room to glint off of her golden wedding band. Robert did not miss this. He stared at the ring, and then he slowly turned his head and looked at Stannis’ hands. Stannis realised too late that he had crossed his arms in a way that showed his own wedding band off quite well. By the time he dropped his arms Robert was already spluttering.

“Wha - I mean - is this... Did you - did you two get _married?_

The people nearest turned to stare at the three of them.

Somehow Sansa convinced them to mind their own business by smiling at them.

“Yes. Lower your voice.” Stannis was speaking through clenched teeth and feeling decidedly irritated with his brother.

“You got married and you didn’t even invite me?” Robert sounded quite hurt.

“We didn’t invite anyone. It was a spur of the moment sort of thing,” Sansa explained, her tone soothing.

Robert stared at her for a moment before turning to stare at Stannis. “ _You_ got ‘spur of the moment’ married to _Sansa fucking Stark?_ ”

“Sansa Baratheon, now,” Stannis corrected. He had not insisted that she should take his name, but she had wanted to. She had said that she liked that they would have the same initials

“What… how… _why?_ ” Robert’s eyes were as round as saucers.

“We’re in love,” Sansa explained, pressing herself affectionately to Stannis’ side and linking arms with him.

“Love?” Robert looked almost ready to have a stroke. His face was getting redder and redder, and Stannis wasn’t sure what was going on behind those huge round eyes.

“Yes,” Stannis said, clearing his throat and lifting his chin.

There was silence for a few beats while Robert processed this.

Stannis almost jumped in surprise when the next thing his brother did was burst into laughter. Loud, booming screams of laughter that echoed around the room and caused everyone to turn to look. Sansa’s smiles could not deter the curious onlookers this time.

“Did you finally discover a sense of humour, little brother?” Robert asked when he got himself under control. He was wiping tears of mirth from his cheeks, getting a bit of bacon grease on his face as he did.

“What do you mean?” Stannis asked stiffly. He did not like feeling like the butt of a joke.

“This is a joke, right?” Robert looked between Sansa and Stannis with a hopeful smile. “You’re not really married, are you?”

“What on earth is going on here?” Cersei had arrived on the scene with Joffrey and Margaery in tow. Stannis noticed Sansa go a little pale and move to stand even closer to him than before. “Why were you making all that noise?”

“Stannis just told me a very funny joke,” Robert said, cheerfully sticking another strip of bacon in his mouth.

“Uncle Stannis doesn’t have a sense of humour,” Joffrey drawled.

Robert just shook his head and chuckled. Cersei, Joffrey and Margaery all gave Stannis an expectant look.

“I was not telling Robert a joke,” Stannis said, resisting the urge to grind his teeth. “I was just telling him that Sansa and I recently got married.”

Joffrey snorted and smiled his vicious little smile. “You like going through my garbage, Uncle?”

Stannis fixed Joffrey with a look that made the smile fade from the younger man’s features. _That’s right, you piece of shit. I can still make you piss yourself._

“My, you must really have had your heart set on joining the family,” Cersei said, addressing Sansa with a pitying sort of tone. She didn’t say it out loud, but it was obvious that she thought Sansa was pathetic to have married Stannis.

He gave Cersei a cold look that she was only able to meet for a few seconds.

“Why are you going along with this?” Robert asked, sounding less amused now. “They’re obviously not really married. Stannis isn’t interested in women. Or men. Or anything.”

Margaery spoke up before Stannis could refute that preposterous statement. “I’m sorry to contradict you, but I’ve been to visit them. They’re really married. They live together and they have wedding pictures on the wall and everything. They got married when my friends and I went to Vegas for my bachelorette party, and Stannis was there for that conference. Ask my brother Garlan if you don’t believe me.”

“Did someone say my name?” Garlan Tyrell had wandered over. It seemed to Stannis that Garlan had an uncanny ability to involve himself in conversations that had anything to do with him or his family members.

“I was just explaining that Stannis and Sansa really got married when we were in Vegas a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, yes! I thought I’d have a heart attack when I found Sansa in Stannis’ suite. Cheeks rosy and hair disheveled...”

Robert raised his eyebrows and blinked repeatedly at Garlan.

Stannis felt his face get very warm and he could tell that Sansa was mortified. She was very tense where she stood pressed to his side, and she was staring at the floor, hiding behind a curtain of auburn ringlets.

“Garlan! You’re supposed to be a gentleman.” Margaery swatted her brother’s arm.

“What? They were on their _honeymoon._ ” Garlan didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with what he’d said.

Robert’s eyebrows had risen so high that they could barely be told apart from the hair on his head, and his lips were parted in surprise.

Margaery rolled her eyes theatrically. “Sansa was telling me that she and Stannis are thinking of having a proper ceremony and reception soon,” she said, changing the subject.

Robert was gaping now.

“Is that so?” Cersei said archly, looking a little like she had just sucked on a lemon.

He glared at her. _Don’t worry you horrible old witch, we won’t be trying to upstage your precious son’s wedding._

“Not _very_ soon. Next summer, maybe,” Sansa said, looking up from the floor and up at him instead. He nodded to confirm her words.

“Are you going to have it at sea?” Margaery asked, looking excited.

At this point, Robert seemed to have moved all the way past surprised bafflement and into resentful acceptance.

“We haven’t decided yet. Maybe,” Sansa was regaining some of her colour and her confidence, and she wasn’t clinging quite as tightly to his side.

“I suppose I’ll be invited this time around?” Robert asked, shooting Stannis a sour look.

“Of course you’ll be invited,” Sansa said, using a tone of voice that somehow managed to sweeten Robert’s disposition at once. He smiled, looking as cheerful and jolly as if he hadn’t just received any shocking news at all.

“Something to look forward to, eh?” Robert clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I do love a good wedding.”

“That’s it?” Stannis said, unable to believe his brother. “You’re not going to challenge me to an arm wrestling match or an eating contest... or threaten to fire me? You’re just fine with this?”

“Why would I do any of that?” Robert gave him an overly innocent look.

Stannis narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw shut.

“Honestly, Sansa, I don’t know why you married that sourpuss. You do realise that Renly isn’t married, don’t you? You could have gone for him!”

Everyone shifted around a bit awkwardly. Robert was probably the only person in the world who didn’t know that Renly was gay.

“Well, this is boring,” Joffrey said, yawning ostentatiously, “come on Margaery, let’s go talk to Grandfather.”

Joffrey, Margaery and Cersei all left to walk over to a bored-beyond-all-reason Tywin Lannister, and Stannis seethed when Joffrey used the opportunity to bump shoulders with Sansa. It looked like it had been painful.

He wished they weren’t surrounded by people so that he could kiss her and comfort her, but he couldn’t fathom showing her such affection in front of his brother. He made do with wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Did you really have sex with him?” Robert asked, looking at Sansa and cocking his head to the side.

“... I think I’m just going to leave,” Garlan said, walking over to Loras and Renly. Stannis glared at his retreating back.

Meanwhile, Sansa blushed and pushed a ringlet behind one of her ears. She didn’t seem to know how to answer the question Robert had asked and Stannis didn’t blame her.

“That’s not an appropriate question, Robert,” Stannis said, “mind your own business.”

“I really didn’t think you knew _how._ ” Robert was looking at Stannis, shaking his head and chuckling. “He any good?” he added, addressing Sansa again.

Sansa was bright red at this point, and looking rather panicked.

“Robert!” Stannis said sharply in his ‘I have a gun’ tone of voice.

“What? I can’t very well ask you. You’d never tell me.”

Stannis felt a very strong urge to bury his face in his hands and groan.

“Yes,” Sansa suddenly said. “The answer is yes.” She was quiet for a beat to let her words sink in, and then she tucked her hand into the crook of Stannis’ elbow. “Why don’t we go talk to -” Sansa glanced around. The nearest person to them was Olenna Tyrell. “- Mrs. Tyrell?”

With that, she started walking towards the old woman, dragging him with her and leaving Robert behind; a delighted sort of gobsmacked expression on his face.

Stannis couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He felt both embarrassed and absurdly pleased with how Sansa had handled his brother.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Olenna said, raising an eyebrow at the pair of them when they reached her.

“Thank you.” Sansa’s voice was genuinely sweet, and Stannis wondered whether she knew that Olenna Tyrell was evil and did not deserve to be spoken to so sweetly.

“So tell me, why did you really get married?” Olenna asked. Maybe she felt that she was too old to waste time beating around the bush?

“We’re in love,” Sansa said, shooting Stannis a shy smile. He felt his face relax into a softer expression in response. He would never get tired of hearing her say that.

Olenna made the sort of unimpressed sound that only old ladies seemed capable of making. “Sure you are. Are you planning something? Are you trying to cheat Joffrey out of his inheritance?”

“How on earth would we do that?” Sansa sounded very startled.

Stannis wasn’t startled. The old hag would think something like that was going on. She was obviously planning to have Margaery marry Joffrey, do something to Joffrey, and have Margaery live a good life with Joffrey’s money. Well, Robert’s money.

“Dear girl, don’t pretend to be less intelligent than you are. It insults _my_ intelligence.”

“Please, I’m just glad I’m not going to marry Joffrey,” Sansa said, her voice quiet. “Stannis and I aren’t planning anything. We won’t make any trouble.”

Olenna glanced at Stannis and he nodded.

He honestly didn’t care what the Tyrells did to Joffrey. He would prefer if the Tyrells didn’t get their claws into too many company shares in the process, though. Perhaps he ought to talk to Robert about what sort of prenup Margaery and Joffrey would be signing…

“You really expect me to believe that you just… fell in love with your ex-fiancé’s uncle?”

“It’s the truth.” Sansa met Olenna’s eyes steadily, and Stannis felt rather like getting up on the buffet table and asking everyone to please take a moment to appreciate how wonderful his wife was.

“You’re a very odd girl,” Olenna said, furrowing her brow for a moment before turning on her heel and striding over to the little group around Tywin Lannister.

Sansa bit her lip and gave Stannis a look that made him want to take her home. And then take her dress off.

“Shouldn’t we say hello to Renly?” she asked, interrupting his hazardous train of thought.

Stannis sighed. “Fine.” He might be able to use the opportunity to glare at Garlan Tyrell some more.

“Stannis!” Renly seemed thrilled to see him and even clapped him companionably on the back. Something had to be terribly wrong.

“What are you doing?” Stannis asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Renly’s hand.

Renly laughed and removed his hand from Stannis’ back. “You’re a riot, Stannis. Married life suits you.”

Stannis knew that the appropriate thing to do was to thank his brother, but he clenched his jaw shut instead.

“Thank you so much for helping Stannis arrange for those V.I.P. passes,” Sansa said, “Britney was amazing.”

“Don’t sweat it! If I had known that all I needed to do to get Mr. Stuffy to loosen up and party was to get him tickets to see Britney I would have done it ages ago.”

Loras and Garlan both chuckled, and Renly beamed. Stannis glared at them all.

“Well, it was very kind of you.” Sansa’s sincerity somehow managed to get Renly to stop grinning and looking amused in favour of reddening slightly and nodding at her.

“You’re welcome,” he said, for once in his life not making a joke.

There was a short silence.

“So, er, Garlan was telling Loras and me about your plans to have a second wedding next summer.”

“Nothing’s been decided for sure quite yet, but we’ll let you know,” Sansa said. Stannis felt her hand join his, lacing their fingers together. It was a nice feeling.

“I can hardly believe it… I never thought you’d get married _once,_ much less twice.” Renly was shaking his head and looking at Stannis with an incredulous expression on his face.

Stannis scowled. Why couldn’t Renly just keep comments like that to himself?

Before anyone could say anything else, a piercing noise rent the air. It was the noise of microphone being turned on and tested.

“One, two, three, hello? Can everyone hear me?” It was Margaery. She was thanking everyone for coming and telling them that she looked forward to seeing them on the day of the wedding. She kept it short and sweet, but Stannis could tell that Sansa paled a bit when Margaery handed the microphone to Joffrey.

“Hello everyone. I just wanted to congratulate the newlyweds in the room. My beloved Uncle Stannis and my ex-fiancé Sansa Stark recently got married in Las Vegas. Why don’t the two of you come up here so we can all toast to your good health?”

Sansa’s grip on Stannis’ hand became so hard that he felt his blood stop circulating.

Stannis knew that Joffrey wasn’t planning anything good, but there wasn’t much he could do about it at the moment. He and Sansa were forced to join Joffrey and Margaery by the microphone.

When they reached the ‘golden couple’, Joffrey immediately started talking again, lifting his glass.

“To my environmentally friendly uncle and his lovely wife!” he said, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Stannis didn’t get it at first, but when he saw Sansa wince and heard the guests start to titter, he realised that Joffrey had called him environmentally friendly because he had ‘recycled’ Sansa.

“Come on,” Stannis said through gritted teeth to Sansa, getting ready to stalk out of the room. He would not stick around to be laughed at.

“Don’t leave quite yet,” Joffrey said, still smiling in that filthy way. _I’ll get you for this,_ Stannis thought, glaring at his nephew.

“Since they got married in Las Vegas without anyone present, I thought it would be nice to give them an opportunity to let us all share their joy. Who wants to see them kiss?”

Stannis could see that Margaery seemed to be in the middle of wishing for the ground to open up and swallow her, though she was making a brave effort at looking like an adoring fiancée. Sansa was looking mortified.

The crowd had started to clink their glasses and chant, “kiss, kiss, kiss,” and there was a triumphant gleam in Joffrey’s eyes.

Stannis loathed public displays of affection, and he knew that Joffrey had to know that. It was very clear to him what Joffrey was trying to do. He expected Stannis and Sansa to share some horribly awkward peck, making it look like their marriage was a sham.

He refused to let that happen.

Feeling very determined and only a little nervous, he turned to face Sansa and leant in for a kiss. It was lovely to kiss her, even though it took her a second to close her eyes and start responding to him. Stannis closed his eyes too, and tried to ignore the fact that a lot of people were watching in favour of focusing on how soft Sansa’s lips were. After a respectable kiss - not too sloppy, not too chaste - Stannis decided to up the ante.

If Joffrey wanted a show, he’d give him a show.

Holding Sansa securely in his arms, his heart beating a lot faster than usually, he maneuvered her into a dip. He’d never actually done it while kissing, but he had learnt how to dip a woman in the dance classes his mother had forced him and Robert to take. Thankfully Sansa was very pliant in his arms. It would have been awkward if she had fought him.

He felt one of Sansa’s hands come up to touch his cheek, and felt a rush of heat move through him when she made a very quiet moaning sound.

Thankfully no one would be able to hear her. The crowd that had been completely silent when he had first started kissing Sansa was now wolf whistling, applauding and cheering.

Probably not the effect Joffrey had been hoping for.

Stannis pulled back from the kiss and back out of the dip in one smooth movement. Sansa’s eyes were still closed.

“Will that be all?” Stannis asked, directing the curt question at Joffrey.

Joffrey was scowling like a child whose favourite toy had been taken away.

“To love,” Margaery said, interrupting the staring contest between him and Joffrey and lifting her glass for another toast.

Sansa opened her eyes and smiled at the crowd when they echoed Margaery’s words. Her cheeks were pink, but Stannis hoped she was flushed with pleasure rather than embarrassment.

They left not long after that, ignoring Robert who tried to waylay them, no doubt in order to ask Sansa more inappropriate questions about Stannis’ abilities in the bedroom.

Once they were safely ensconced in Stannis’ car he blew out a long breath.

_Did I really just do that?_

***

“I can’t believe you did that,” Sansa said, still feeling the butterflies Stannis had set off with his spectacular kiss. Would her face ever cool down?

It had been like a scene from a film to be kissed like that, and Sansa had never gone quite that quickly from feeling humiliated to feeling completely blissful. She had never expected Stannis to respond to Joffrey’s goading like that. Not in a million years.

She loved Stannis more than ever for it.

“He expected us to act awkward and shy away from a public display of affection. I was not about to do what he wanted me to do,” Stannis said, the back of his neck and his ears reddening.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look so disappointed.” She couldn’t help but laugh. The look on Joffrey’s face had been _priceless._

“I won’t ever let him get away with treating you poorly,” Stannis said, his tone serious, “so get used to seeing him look disappointed from now on.”

Warmth spread through her entire body at those words, and she felt like each beat of her heart was exclusively for him.

“I love you,” she said, meaning it with all of her heart and soul. She felt so full of love that she was starting to worry she might just _burst._

“I love you, too.” He sounded very formal, and it just made her want to throw her arms around his neck and hug him forever. Unfortunately she couldn’t do that in a moving car.

She was wondering whether she should ask Stannis to pull over when he interrupted her train of thought.

“I’m sorry about how Robert behaved.”

She smiled and thought about the way she had managed to overcome her embarrassment in order to answer Robert’s completely inappropriate question about whether Stannis was ‘any good’. It had felt rather wonderful to tell him yes and watch his face as he processed what she had said. He had looked so _funny._

“It’s Robert,” she said with a shrug. “If he hadn’t behaved like that I would have worried.”

“You know he’s just going to keep asking you stupid questions now that you’ve answered him once.” Stannis sounded a bit exasperated, but not annoyed.

“I think I can handle it,” Sansa said pertly. Robert really wasn’t so bad.

“Please don’t handle it by giving him more details about our private life,” Stannis grumbled.

“Says the man who just made out with me in front of his entire family,” Sansa shot back, unable to keep from giggling a little.

Stannis turned completely red. Neck, ears and face. It was adorable.

Sansa smiled to herself. She was _so_ going to attack him the minute they got home and take all his clothes off.


	9. The Blue Wedding

Sansa felt a lot less nervous about going to Joffrey and Margaery’s wedding after what happened at the brunch. Seeing Joffrey lose face had somehow made him less frightening, and Sansa felt like she would be able to ignore him if he tried to say anything horrible to her. She was actually able to look forward to the event now that she wasn’t worried about what Joffrey might do or say. She was very curious about what sort of dress Margaery would wear, and how she would have her hair done. It would probably be quite extravagant and fabulous.

Anyway, it was rather exciting to see Stannis dressed to the nines again. He looked much better in his own tux than he’d looked in the rented one at the Bellagio. The one he was wearing now was obviously tailored to fit him like a glove, and the material was of the very finest quality. She almost felt plain next to him, wearing her simple dress of midnight blue.

Stannis seemed to think she was gorgeous, however, and she ended up having to fix her lipstick _twice_ before they even made it to the foyer of their apartment. (She didn’t mind.)

“Before we go, I have something I’d like you to wear.” Stannis pulled out a large, flat jewellery box. It was the kind that Sansa’s mother kept her most valuable necklaces in, and Sansa parted her lips in surprise.

He opened the box to reveal a stunning onyx pendant with a fine gold chain and diamond details. There were also matching earrings in the box, along with a beautiful bracelet. It was a delicate, understated set of jewellery that seemed to exude class and sophistication.

“It’s beautiful,” Sansa breathed, too stunned to think of anything better to say. “Thank you.”

She removed the jewellery she had already been wearing and Stannis helped her with the clasp of the new necklace, gently moving her hair to the side as he worked.

“These pieces belonged to my mother. They’ve been in the Baratheon family for several generations.”

Sansa’s heart skipped a beat and she turned to face him, her hand resting over the onyx that was now resting just below her collar bones. “Really?”

“Yes. She wore this necklace very often. I think it was one of her favourites.”

“I don’t know what to say…” She felt like she might tear up. It was overwhelming to receive such a present.

Stannis cleared his throat. “I never gave you a morning gift.”

“Neither did I,” she said, shaking her head slightly.

“Seeing you outshine the bride at the farcical wedding we’re about to attend will be a suitable gift.” There was a slightly smug smile playing on his lips, and Sansa rolled her eyes at him.

“We’ve discussed this. There is no way I’ll look prettier than Margaery today.”

Stannis hummed, but he didn’t look convinced.

Sansa did turn a few heads at the church, but she didn’t know whether that had anything to do with whether she looked pretty or not. It seemed more likely that people were simply interested in her and Stannis as a couple after the little stunt he had pulled at the wedding brunch. Maybe the wedding guests were waiting for them to start making out again? She blushed at the thought, but had to keep from smiling at the same time.

They sat at the very front, right next to Renly, Robert and Cersei, and Sansa only wondered where Myrcella and Tommen were for a moment before she recalled that Myrcella was a bridesmaid, and Tommen was the ringbearer. A bittersweet feeling filled her chest as she remembered how excited Myrcella had been about being Sansa’s bridesmaid -- back when she had been engaged to Joffrey. The only downside to being rid of her ex had been losing touch with his brother and sister.

If she had never met Joffrey she would probably think he looked very handsome where he stood at the altar, but because she knew what he was really like she didn’t think he looked handsome in the least. The lips she had once considered sexy and full now seemed wormy. The Lannister blond hair on his head, artfully tousled according to the latest fashion, seemed pretentious and more the colour of piss than of gold. His lean form now seemed weak rather than chic, and Sansa couldn’t help but subtly stroke Stannis’ arm -- almost as if to remind herself that her husband was nothing like her ex. Stannis had black hair that was receding and certainly not styled in any sort of fashionable way. It was simply kept short and neat. He had thin lips that didn’t remind Sansa of worms at all, and he was _strong._

When the bridal march started playing Sansa stopped thinking about Joffrey.

Margaery looked resplendent. The dress was huge, and featured a long train that Myrcella seemed to be in charge of wrangling. There was a complicated corset top, there was lace, sparkling crystals and beautiful beading. Her hair had been piled up in a style that reminded Sansa of the court of Versailles more than anything else, the veil was almost as long as the train of the dress, and her bouquet looked like it was composed of all the flowers from several hothouses full of exotic plants.

“She looks like a giant marshmallow crossbred with a Christmas tree,” Stannis whispered, sounding completely serious.

“Hush,” Sansa said, annoyed with the comment. Perhaps it was a little true, but that didn’t mean he should _say_ it.

Every bride was a princess on her wedding day, and Margaery wearing the hell out of the over-the-top style of her dress.

The ceremony was fairly uneventful after that. Everyone did their part, and Tommen looked very cute when he offered Joffrey and Margaery the rings, his cherubic face glowing with pride.

The guests formed an orderly line outside the church, everyone wishing to congratulate the newlyweds, and Stannis and Sansa ended up near the front along with Robert, Cersei, Renly and Margaery’s family.

Sansa was completely sincere when she congratulated Margaery and complimented her dress, but her smile was frozen and forced when she was required to wish Joffrey happiness. He insisted on giving her a hug, and it was the most uncomfortable hug she had ever received. He squeezed her as hard as he could, and despite his noodle arms it _hurt._ She was sure he would have hugged her until it became hard for her to breathe if Stannis hadn’t done something she hadn’t seen, getting Joffrey to release her at once.

When she and Stannis had broken away from the crowd to head for the car, Sansa gave Stannis a curious look. “How did you get Joffrey to stop hugging me?”

Stannis frowned. “I may have looked a bit angry.” His hand went to the place where his gun was hidden. It seemed to be an unconscious movement, meant only to reassure himself that the weapon was still where he had left it..

“You wouldn’t shoot him, would you?” Sansa asked, feeling her stomach do a weird sort of somersault.

“Of course not,” Stannis said, dropping his hand. “That would be illegal.”

“Oh.” Sansa blinked at him, feeling relieved and confused.

“I might shoot at the sky right above his head, perhaps, but definitely not at him.”

Sansa was struck by a very vivid mental image of Joffrey ducking behind his mother after hearing some loud gunshots. Her lips twitched and she had to work hard to conceal a smile.

“He’s a cowardly little shit,” Stannis muttered. “Never picks on anyone his own size.”

Stannis made several more derisive comments about Joffrey’s character flaws, about the ‘extravagant, wasteful Tyrells’, and ‘what a circus’ the wedding ceremony had been on the way to the reception, but Sansa mostly kept her thoughts to herself. Eventually she did speak up in defence of Margaery, however.

“Cersei wanted a big wedding for Joffrey,” she said, “I doubt this was all Margaery’s doing.”

Stannis muttered something about ‘tasteless Lannisters’ but was quiet about the matter after that.

There was a long wait at the reception venue, and Sansa nervously downed two flutes of Champagne. She probably would have gone for a third if Stannis hadn’t been with her, sober as a heart attack. Thankfully they managed to steer well clear of Robert, Tyrion Lannister and Mace Tyrell. The three of them were most certainly not stopping at two flutes of Champagne, and from what Sansa had heard when she and Stannis had briefly wandered into their vicinity, they were telling each other dirtier and dirtier jokes by the minute.

Stannis was not fond of mingling, and Sansa was content to stay with him and examine the art on the reception hall’s walls, and look at the overloaded gift table. Sansa entertained herself by trying to guess what was inside the boxes and then trying to figure out who was responsible for each gift by judging the way the parcels were wrapped.

The present that was encased in a chest made out of solid gold was probably from Tywin Lannister.

Eventually the bride and groom joined the wedding guests in the reception hall, freshly photographed and ready to celebrate.

There were several courses of the finest, most expensive food imaginable, and Sansa was sitting far enough away from Joffrey to actually enjoy some of it. A different wine was paired with each course, and Sansa knew that if she were eating a comparable meal at a restaurant she would be paying a king’s ransom for the privilege.

As the evening wore on, Stannis started to get restless. He wanted to leave, and Sansa didn’t blame him. The more wine Joffrey drank, the louder and more belligerent he became, and Sansa had the feeling that soon he would be doing or saying something _horrible._

“We have to stay until they cut the wedding cake. It’s rude to leave before then,” Sansa whispered when Stannis suggested they leave for the third time.

Stannis opened his mouth to reply, but his words died on his tongue when Joffrey suddenly started yelling.

“Imp! Dear Uncle Imp! Won’t you come and amuse us.”

Nearly every head in the room turned to look at Tyrion, who up until then had been looking drunk and happy with his pretty lady friend. Now he was understandably looking less happy.

It seemed that Joffrey wanted Tyrion to make a speech. Mace Tyrell and Cersei had already given speeches, and Robert had attempted to give a speech, but had fallen asleep before he’d managed to say two words. Apparently it wasn’t a good idea to mix the painkillers he was on for his broken legs with so much alcohol.

Tyrion got very reluctantly to the stage where the microphone was set up, and struggled to adjust the mic stand so it would suit his height. In the end he just took the microphone and held it in his hand.

“I - I hadn’t really prepared a speech,” he said, giving Joffrey the evil eye. “Was there a particular subject you wanted me to bring up, dear nephew?”

“Tell us about your first wedding, Uncle,” Joffrey said, a cruel expression on his face.

“I’d really rather not.” Tyrion had gone very pale.

“No really, tell us about the prostitute you married in Vegas. Tell us how Grandfather had the whole thing annulled and made you drop her off on the sleazy corner where you found her and stay and watch until another John picked her up.”

Tyrion looked down at his shoes. “I don’t think I really need to. You’ve just told the story for me, haven’t you?”

“Only prostitutes get married in Vegas!” Joffrey’s voice was gleeful and nasty, and Sansa should have known he wouldn’t leave her alone tonight.

Stannis got to his feet and looked ready to strangle Joffrey with his bare hands.

“I think it’s time for the cake!” Margaery said, smiling brightly and distracting everyone.

A man in a chef’s hat rolled out a gigantic cake and handed a knife to Joffrey. Everyone was eerily silent as the bride and groom cut the first piece. The only noise that could be heard came from the wedding photographer’s camera.

There was a tentative smattering of applause when Margaery and Joffrey fed each other pieces of the sugary treat, and after that it seemed as if a spell had been lifted. Everyone started talking again.

“I’m going to kill him,” Stannis hissed.

“Don’t,” Sansa said, frowning at the tablecloth. “Don’t let him see you get upset. It’s what he wants.”

“He called you a whore!”

“He’s called me worse things.”

Stannis turned purple and Sansa could see a vein throbbing dangerously on the side of his neck. He looked ready to commit murder. Illegal or not.

But Sansa didn’t get to find out whether Stannis would have strangled Joffrey for calling her a prostitute.

Right as Joffrey and Margaery were getting ready to dance the first dance, a team of policemen stormed into the reception hall. There were three officers in uniforms, and one detective in plain clothes. The cops headed straight for Joffrey.

“Joffrey Baratheon?” the detective said, speaking loudly and clearly.

“What’s it to you?” Joffrey was sneering and looking completely outraged that he was being interrupted.

“You’re under arrest for the torture and suspected homicide of Ros Smith and Daisy Young.” The detective nodded at one of the officers in uniform, and he walked forward with handcuffs, reciting the Miranda rights as he did.

“Stop, stop!” Cersei had reached the dance floor, a look of fury on her face. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Photographic evidence of this man torturing two prostitutes has just turned up. The NYPD found it after we searched his computer and his apartment with a warrant we obtained due to a tip we received from a reliable confidential informant. The women were reported missing a year ago and have not been found. We suspect him of murdering them. He is under arrest.”

“You can’t just arrest him,” Cersei said, drawing herself up to her full height and attempting to look down her nose at the much taller detective. “He is my son. He is a _Baratheon._ ”

“Look, lady. I don’t care if he’s the president. He committed a crime.”

“What is wrong with you?” Cersei hissed. “It’s his _wedding reception._ ”

Tywin Lannister arrived on the scene and whispered something to the detective. He then went over to his daughter and gripped her shoulder in a way that was obviously painful. Cersei flinched.

“Let these gentlemen do their job,” he said to her, exuding more authority and power than all the policemen combined. He then turned to address Joffrey. 

Joffrey had been uncharacteristically silent since the detective declared that he was under arrest, looking paler, much younger and more frightened than Sansa had ever seen him look.

“Don’t say anything until your lawyer arrives,” Tywin instructed. “Not a word.”

Joffrey nodded, and winced as the officer who had read him the Miranda rights cuffed him.

Margaery was crying. Gut-wrenching sobs that Sansa did not think anyone would be able to fake.

After the police left with Joffrey the reception dissolved into complete pandemonium.

“Come on,” Stannis said, putting his arm around her shoulders, “we should leave.”

“No,” Sansa protested, feeling numb. “I should go to Margaery.”

“She has her family to help her through this. Don’t worry about her.”

“I didn’t know about those women…” she said, her voice so quiet that it almost got lost in all the noise. “I don’t think Margaery knew either. She can’t have… she can’t have known and still married him…”

Sansa had known that Joffrey was _awful,_ but she had never thought he could actually commit murder.

_Those poor girls…_

“Please let me take you home,” Stannis said, pulling her into a full embrace. “You’ve had a bad shock.”

Sansa didn’t feel shocked. She didn’t really feel anything. Except concern for Margaery and the women who were missing. Probably dead. It looked like it might be important to Stannis to take her home, however, so she decided to go along with him.

They had nearly made it to the door when Cersei suddenly blocked their path.

“You. You did this,” she hissed, a look of fury on her face. She was staring straight at Sansa, and pointing at her, too.

“What?” Sansa furrowed her brow, feeling completely baffled.

“Don’t play the dumb innocent with me, you little slut. You’re the ‘reliable confidential informant’! Just admit it!” There was something crazed and desperate about Cersei’s entire being -- as if she were vibrating with barely suppressed rage and a lot of other emotions.

Sansa’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “I wasn’t - I’m not,” she said, feeling overwhelmed at the mere _suggestion._

“As if I’d believe you,” Cersei said, throwing her golden mane back haughtily. “You’re trying to take everything Joffrey refused to give you. You come in here, wearing precious Baratheon family jewellery that should rightly belong to me or Margaery, smug as anything, and expect me to believe you didn’t throw my son to the wolves?”

Sansa’s hand flew to the pendant she was wearing as if she could protect it from Cersei’s words somehow. Stannis tightened his hold on her, and she could sense that he was tensing up, preparing to fight Cersei on her behalf.

Before he had a chance to say anything they were interrupted.

“Not every woman is a cold-hearted bitch like you, dear sister.” Tyrion had arrived on the scene, sounding half exhausted, half amused. “Let Stannis take his lovely new wife home. I highly doubt Sansa had anything to do with tonight’s events.”

“What would you know about it?” Cersei spat out, her face twisted into a snarl.

“I happen to be an excellent judge of character,” Tyrion said, his tone wry, “and even if I wasn’t, I’d be able to tell that the girl is in shock. She’d hardly be in shock if she masterminded the arrest.”

“You don’t appear to be in shock, _dear brother._ ” Cersei’s voice was icy.

“That’s because I know Joffrey is an evil little cunt and I know what he’s capable of. The fact that the boys in blue showed up to crash the wedding was interesting, but hardly shocking.”

“Or maybe you’re not shocked because it was _you?_ ” Cersei accused, lightning flashing in her green eyes.

Stannis tugged on Sansa, and they ended up leaving while the two siblings were too busy arguing with one another to notice.

They were silent all through the drive home, though Sansa noticed Stannis casting concerned looks her way several times. Once or twice he had seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but he hadn’t spoken.

Finally, once they were sitting on their living room sofa, Sansa was the one to break the silence.

“Should this necklace really belong to Cersei or Margaery?” she asked, feeling like it was very important for Stannis to tell her if it was true.

“No,” he said at once, his voice firm. “Robert, Renly and I all inherited different pieces of Baratheon jewellery from our mother. This necklace, those earrings and that bracelet are all pieces that I inherited. They are mine to do with as I wish, and I wish for you to keep them. And wear them whenever you feel it is appropriate.”

Sansa hummed to acknowledge that she had understood, but she didn’t really know what to say.

“Are you all right?” Stannis asked after a few beats, giving her another one of his concerned looks.

The words seemed to rise to her lips without her conscious mind processing them first.

“Those women - Ros Smith and Daisy Young - the police said they’d been missing for a year. I was still with Joffrey a year ago. He must have… he must have done what he did while we were still engaged.”

She felt cold. Not the sort of cold she felt when she went outside during the Alaskan winter. A different sort of cold that came from within and made it feel like her blood had stopped running.

“Joffrey will pay for his crimes,” Stannis said, speaking in his firm tone of voice again. There was an iron certainty to the way he spoke that made Sansa want to believe him.

The trouble was… she couldn’t really bring herself to. She knew how the justice system worked for people like Joffrey. He would have the finest lawyers Lannister gold could buy, and they would see to it that Joffrey got off lightly. There was no proof that Joffrey had killed those poor women. The policeman had said it himself. The women were missing. Without bodies it was impossible to prove that they were even dead.

 _What is the penalty for torture?_ Sansa wondered. Torture was the only thing the police knew Joffrey was guilty of. Was torture even illegal? The government seemed to get away with torturing prisoners all the time. Would it be enough to send him to prison?

Would he get off with community service and a slap on the wrist?

“Hey,” Stannis said, stroking her cheek to get her attention. “Don’t worry about this. Let the justice system do its work. This is not your responsibility.”

She looked at him, searching his face and seeing more of that iron certainty that she had heard in his voice. She wished she could be that certain.

“I can’t help but feel responsible…” she whispered. What if she could have done something to prevent Joffrey from hurting those women? Maybe if she had been less frightened of him she could have noticed something… sent the police some kind of clue…

“He’s not worth you agonising over this,” Stannis said, cupping her face with both his hands and looking her straight in the eyes. “He is responsible for what he did to those women. No one else.”

Sansa’s feelings suddenly unfroze. Her eyes filled with tears and she felt her throat close up. Stannis reacted by pulling her close and holding her as she started to cry, rubbing her back and staying silent as she let her emotions free.

It was a long time before she stopped crying.

***

The days after the arrest seemed very strange to Sansa. The media coverage of the event was overwhelming, and she occasionally had to dodge reporters on her way home from work.

She didn’t have it nearly as bad as Margaery, however. She had retreated to her family’s townhouse instead of staying at Joffrey’s penthouse - not that she would have been able to stay at the penthouse, anyway, since the police had pretty much closed it up due to the investigation - and there seemed to be a constant siege situation outside the Tyrell residence these days.

The Tyrells had all closed ranks around Margaery, however, and Sansa hadn’t seen one glimpse of her on the news. She was therefore very relieved when Margaery called her, several days after the wedding.

“You know, I’m supposed to be in Hawaii,” Margaery sighed.

“Yeah?” Sansa wasn’t sure what to say. Margaery had seemed aware of some sort of plan to deal with Joffrey before the wedding had taken place. It seemed odd to Sansa that she had expected to go to Hawaii.

“I didn’t realise my grandmother’s plan would go into effect quite so soon.” Margaery seemed to have read Sansa’s mind.

“No? But you knew he would be arrested?” Sansa wanted to ask if Margaery had known about Ros Smith and Daisy Young, but held her tongue. It felt rude to ask such a question. Maybe if Margaery had been Jeyne she would have asked, but Margaery was a relatively new friend, and Sansa didn’t know how close they really were.

“I didn’t know, please believe me. All I knew was that there was a plan to deal with him. I had… god, I had no idea about those girls he tortured. I mean, Jesus Christ.”

Margaery’s voice was a little shaky, and Sansa heard her take a very deep breath before she kept talking.

“But enough about me, how are you coping?”

“Me?” Sansa was shocked that Margaery would be worried about that. Margaery had _married Joffrey_. Sansa was doing completely fine in comparison. “Please don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not worried about you. I mean… you’re so strong. But I thought you might want to talk to someone who understands what he’s like.”

“I’m strong?” Sansa said, almost snorting, “you’re the one who’s strong.”

“We both are,” Margaery said, voice firm. “And we’ll both make it through this.”

“Of course,” Sansa agreed. She wanted to ask whether Margaery was going to get a divorce, but she got the sense that it was too soon to ask something like that.

“I’m going nuts locked up in the house like this,” Margaery confessed. “Tell me some news from the outside world, please.”

“It’s pretty nuts out here, too,” Sansa said, smiling sadly to herself. “They’re saying it’s going to be the trial of the century.”

“Oh, I know all about that. I want to talk about something normal. How’s Stannis?”

Sansa blinked, feeling surprised that Margaery would ask after Stannis. “He’s angry about what Joffrey has done and working very hard to salvage the Baratheon name and the company’s reputation. But other than that he’s fine, I think.”

“You think? Aren’t you his wife? Shouldn’t you _know?_ ” Margaery teased.

It made Sansa smile to hear Margaery tease her. At least this was something Sansa could count on in the world. Margaery would always have a sense of humour about things.

“He can be hard to read sometimes. But he says he’s fine, and he’s as sweet to me as ever, if a bit distracted.”

“Distracted?”

“Like I said, he’s working very hard. He gets… single-minded. Focused. You know?”

“You’re so in love with him.”

Sansa felt herself blush. “Well… yeah. That’s why I married him.”

“You’re lucky,” Margaery said with a long sigh. “You’ve got it all. Good guy, good family name, love…”

“You’ll get that, too,” Sansa said at once, wanting so badly for it to be true. Margaery might have ‘stolen her fiancé’, but Sansa had seen Margaery’s heart. She was ambitious, but kind. She genuinely did not wish harm on any living thing, and she volunteered in soup kitchens in most of her spare time. Sansa was not stupid enough to think that Margaery didn’t know that she benefited from being seen as pious and charitable, but she had gone with Margaery to a soup kitchen a few times, and there was nothing disingenuous about the way Margaery spoke to and acted towards the people she helped. It was clear to Sansa that Margaery liked doing good things -- not just because they made her look good, but also because they made her feel good. Because it was right.

“We’ll see about that.” Margaery let out a short little laugh. “Anyway, Grandmother is telling me I have to get off the phone. God, I wish I was in Hawaii. Bye!”

“Bye,” Sansa said, smiling and shaking her head.

When Sansa told Stannis about the call - leaving out the part where she had practically swooned as she described him as single-minded and focused - he seemed very interested in the fact that Margaery hadn’t been in on the plan to take Joffrey down.

“They had her live with him without telling her the full extent of what he is? Even though they knew about it?” He did not seem pleased at all.

Sansa shrugged. She had no way of knowing how much Margaery’s family had known about Joffrey’s… proclivities before they had pushed Margaery at him. “I’m sure they didn’t think Margaery would come to any harm. And she didn’t. It all worked out all right.”

“She didn’t come to any harm?” Stannis sounded a little incredulous. “She’s married to a sociopath.”

“She’ll probably get a divorce.”

“I don’t think so.” Stannis was frowning, and the lines of his face were becoming somehow sharper.

“Why not?”

“Why go through all the trouble of having her marry him in the first place if they were only going to have her divorce him straight away?”

Sansa bit her lip. When he said it like that it seemed very obvious that Margaery would not be getting a divorce. Not yet, anyway.

“Unless…” Stannis started to pace. “Unless there’s a clause in the prenup that will allow her to take half his assets now that he’s been arrested…” He stopped pacing. “I have to call Robert.”

Sansa watched as he disappeared to his study, feeling like she had just witnessed something important.

Stannis didn’t return from his study for a long time. When he finally did, Sansa looked up from her computer in surprise. She had half expected him to sleep in there.

“It’s iron-clad,” Stannis said with a sigh. “The prenup, I mean. Margaery will get half of everything if she divorces Joffrey now that he’s been arrested for a violent crime. I tried to tell Robert to make sure the Baratheon Enterprises shares were excluded in the damn prenup before they signed it, but he didn’t listen to me…”

Sansa got up from her comfortable pile of pillows and blankets on the sofa, putting her laptop aside.

“Is that very bad?” she asked, feeling that Margaery couldn’t be any worse a shareholder than Joffrey.

“Mace Tyrell has been trying to get his hands on a significant amount of our company shares for more than a decade. Perhaps it shouldn’t really matter, but I’m just not sure the company could survive both Robert and Mace Tyrell making important decisions regarding the company’s future. Robert is disinterested and drunk most of the time, and Mace is a complete imbecile.”

“But Margaery would own the shares, not Mace,” Sansa protested.

Stannis shook his head. “With the Tyrells you’re never dealing with just one of them.”

Sansa had no answer for that. The Tyrells were an incredibly close-knit family.

After a long silence, Sansa sighed and walked towards the TV. “Do you want to watch a film?” she asked, shooting Stannis a hopeful glance. She could use a distraction, and she had a feeling Stannis could use one, too.

Stannis looked surprised for a moment. “Which one?”

“I’m in the mood for total escapism. How about _Sabrina?_ ”

“The original or the remake?” Stannis asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sansa decided to tease him and made herself look puzzled. “There’s more than the one with Harrison Ford?”

Stannis grimaced. “Yes. But we can watch the one with Harrison Ford if that’s what you want.”

Sansa threw her head back and laughed. “Maybe if he were George Clooney I’d consider it. No, let’s watch the one with Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn.”

The frown on Stannis’ face deepened and he blinked a few times. He shot her a mock glare. “You were teasing me.”

Sansa covered her mouth with a hand and tried to stop laughing. “I’m sorry,” she said, the words muffled.

His frown faded and an amused look appeared in his eyes. Sansa loved it when he looked amused. It didn’t happen very often, and his smiles were never very wide, but she adored the fine lines that appeared around his eyes, and the way the blue of his irises seemed to lighten.

“Come here,” he murmured, his deeper-than-usual voice causing a shiver of arousal to travel down her spine.

She approached him a little warily, wondering what he would do.

As soon as she was within reach he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly, his large hands cupping her face at first, then traveling to her shoulders blades, then slowly down her back, until finally -

“Oh!”

He had squeezed her ass rather impolitely, and now that she had broken the kiss to give him a surprised look, he gave it a friendly pat.

“Why don’t you go find the film? I’ll get you some popcorn.”

Sansa giggled, feeling thrilled and astounded that he would be that playful after what they had been talking about. She had a feeling they wouldn’t be watching very much of the movie.


	10. Family Business

Stannis stared at the papers on his desk.

He still had a copy of Joffrey and Margaery’s prenup lying around, even though it had been weeks since the arrest. He also had a copy of Joffrey’s blood test results. Blood had been drawn for testing when Joffrey had been booked on the night of his wedding, and Stannis hoped no one would ask how the results had ended up on his desk.

According to these results, Joffrey’s blood type was O positive. Stannis knew for a fact that Robert was type AB negative just like him.

Unless Stannis was badly mistaken, that meant that Robert couldn’t possibly be Joffrey’s father. Joffrey would have had to inherit either the A or the B from Robert, and even if he had inherited an O from his mother, he would have had to be type A or type B. The O was recessive.

Stannis looked at the prenup. 

If Robert disinherited Joffrey for being illegitimate, taking away Joffrey’s right to his percentage of the Baratheon Enterprises shares…

The prenup would still be legally binding, but Margaery wouldn’t get her hands on the shares. She’d get half of the penthouse apartment and the money in Joffrey’s bank accounts, she’d get half the cars Joffrey owned and half of the expensive collection of antique crossbows and medieval weapons, and she’d even get half of the wedding gifts. But she wouldn’t walk away with the most valuable thing Joffrey owned: a part of the family business.

Stannis knew he had to divulge the secret, and he knew it would be _messy._

With a sigh he got up and left his study. He needed a cup of tea.

“What’s wrong?” Sansa asked as soon as she spotted him. She had been curled up with a book in her customary pile of blankets and pillows on the living room sofa. She looked rather like a little bird in a nest.

Should he tell her?

“Would you like some tea?” he asked, buying himself some time. “I’m about to make a pot.”

“Sure. As long as you don’t judge me for using three cubes of sugar,” Sansa said, giving him a small smile and raising an eyebrow.

She followed him to the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table. He started the kettle boiling. It seemed easier to talk now that his hands were occupied with finding the teapot, the tea leaves and the cups.

“I’ve just discovered something about Joffrey,” he said as he looked for the tea leaf strainer.

“Oh?”

The kettle started to make a bit of noise.

“He’s not Robert’s son.”

Sansa was so silent that the noise of the kettle suddenly sounded a lot louder. Stannis looked at her and saw that her eyes had widened.

“What?” She started to blink quite rapidly. He half expected her to pinch herself.

Stannis explained about the blood types, using the fewest words possible.

The kettle had boiled by the time he was done. He started to make the tea while Sansa digested his words.

“You mean… Cersei cheated on Robert?” Sansa asked when Stannis was done. He placed a cup of steaming black tea in front of her along with the sugar bowl and some milk. He sat down across with his own cup. (He didn’t take any sugar or milk. Only a slice of lemon.)

“She must have. I doubt there was a mistake at the hospital.” He took a sip of his tea and worked hard not to wince. Too hot.

Sansa bit her lip and focused more than she needed to on adding milk to her tea.

“This information is the key to preventing the Tyrells from getting their hands on the company shares,” Stannis added.

“Olenna Tyrell isn’t going to like it,” Sansa said, now adding sugar to her cup and stirring thoughtfully.

“Olenna Tyrell can go back to Highgarden and sulk in her ten million dollar mansion. I won’t be shedding a tear over her fate.”

Sansa ducked her head to hide a smile and Stannis felt pleased with himself for having amused her. He risked another sip of his tea. Thankfully it was no longer scalding.

“So you’re really going to do it? Tell everyone that Joffrey isn’t Robert’s biological son?”

Stannis didn’t see how he had any other choice. He had to protect the family business. If he didn’t do it, no one else would. It was his duty. “I must.”

“Who are you going to tell?” Sansa tilted her head to the side and added a bit more milk to her cup. He really didn’t know why she liked to ruin her tea like that. “Stop judging,” she added with a mock glare.

Stannis pursed his lips and looked down at the table apologetically. “Robert, I suppose.” He wondered whether his brother would believe him. He clenched his jaw at the idea that Robert would disregard something as incontrovertible as Joffrey’s blood type.

“Do you think he’ll be upset?” Sansa took a careful sip of what had to be undrinkably sweet and milky tea.

Stannis didn’t see how Robert could justify being upset with his wife for cheating on him. Robert was constantly sleeping around. 

“Probably.” Robert had never been the most logical person. He was still talking about ‘The One That Got Away’ in college: Ned’s sister, Lyanna Stark. He refused to listen reason regarding her and was convinced that they would have lived happily ever after if Rhaegar Targaryen, a married man, hadn’t ‘seduced’ her. Typical Robert. Making the tragedy of Lyanna’s affair with Rhaegar and their subsequent deaths in a car crash all about himself.

“Do you think Myrcella and Tommen are his, though?” Sansa asked, bringing up a subject Stannis hadn’t really considered.

“I don’t know. It would perhaps be wise to get all of their DNA tested.”

“What do you think Cersei will do?” Sansa was chewing on her bottom lip and furrowing her brow. “She’s hardly going to want this to become public knowledge.”

“She must not be allowed to find out about this before Robert has been convinced.” It was crucial. Cersei would just get in the way of things if she found out, and she’d do it ineptly.

“Will Robert be able to disinherit Joffrey without Cersei agreeing to it?” Sansa asked, her brow still furrowed.

“He won’t be able to prevent Cersei from leaving Joffrey her own money,” Stannis said. His tea was perfect now. “But he will be able to protect the company shares.”

“Maybe Robert could get Cersei to agree to a more thorough disinheritance by using the knowledge of her infidelity as leverage?” Sansa brought her teacup to her lips and raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Stannis was pretty sure he knew where she was going, but he wanted to hear her explain it.

“Well, he can promise not to make the reasons for the disinheritance public if she promises not to make things difficult. Her reputation won’t be damaged, and if Myrcella and Tommen aren’t Robert’s biological children either, he could promise not to disinherit them to make the deal even more tempting for her.” Sansa finished speaking with a delicate little shrug.

“There’s just one problem with that plan,” Stannis said, feeling that it was a bit of a shame to bring it up. Her idea sounded quite good.

“What is it?” Sansa asked, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows.

“The right to inherit Baratheon Enterprises shares cannot be taken away from anyone who is born a Baratheon by simply disinheriting them. Robert will have to prove to the board that Joffrey isn’t his son. That he isn’t a Baratheon.”

“Wow. That seems unusual.”

“It is,” Stannis sighed. It really was as if Orys Baratheon, the founder of the company, had decided that business should work more like a monarchy than anything else. “It’s possible for a Baratheon heir to ‘abdicate’ and refuse the shares, but that’s about it.”

“If Robert proves this to the board, does it automatically become public knowledge? Do people generally know how this works?” Sansa asked, obviously not ready to give up on her idea.

“They probably don’t, but anyone might easily figure it out by doing a little digging.”

“But would they have any reason to dig if Robert said he was disinheriting Joffrey because of the arrest and the scandal? Wouldn’t everyone just assume that being disinherited like that would be enough to keep Joffrey from receiving his shares?”

“Under normal circumstances, perhaps,” Stannis agreed, “but the Tyrells are going to dig. Believe me, they’ll dig.”

Sansa finished her tea and looked disappointed. “You mean there’s no way to keep the whole world from finding out that Cersei cheated on Robert?”

“I’m afraid not,” Stannis said grimly, finishing his own tea.

“This is going to be _awful,_ isn’t it?” Sansa whispered, looking at Stannis with big worried eyes.

“It will be what it will be.” _But yes. Probably awful._

He watched as Sansa squared her shoulders, visibly steeling herself. There was something very determined in her eyes that hadn’t been there just a moment ago.

“All right. Just tell me how I can help you. It will be easier to face the fallout if we support each other.”

Stannis had been enjoying married life so far, it was good to have someone to love and come home to. It was comforting to have a warm woman to hold at night and be held in return, wonderful to share the ups and downs of daily life with someone who cared and understood, and it was _very_ satisfying to have an eager sex partner.

But now he felt like he really understood why people would insist on getting married. He could imagine that this sort of near-unconditional support could get addictive.

“Thank you, Sansa,” he said, reaching over the table to clasp one of her hands with his. Their eyes met, and he felt like they understood one another _perfectly._

***

Several months after Stannis and Sansa drank tea at their kitchen table and discussed Joffrey’s blood type, Joffrey finally got convicted for causing grievous bodily harm with intent to Ros Smith and Daisy Young. His overpaid lawyers had somehow managed to help him escape the murder charges. It was a disappointing verdict, but Joffrey would be going to prison for a few years.

Stannis tried not to think about it too much. Everything surrounding Joffrey’s arrest and Stannis’ reveal regarding Joffrey’s blood type was such a _mess._ He often thought to himself that he should really just have set Robert’s house on fire. It would probably have been cleaner and neater.

Robert and Cersei were in the middle of a nasty divorce, Joffrey and Margaery were divorced already and the Tyrells were up in arms about the way Margaery was being ‘cheated’ out of company shares that were ‘rightfully hers’, Tyrion Lannister had fled the country due to the way Cersei had harangued him about being the ‘reliable confidential informant’ - even though it was obvious to everyone with a brain that the Tyrells had been behind the tip the police had received - Renly was acting out and demanding to take Robert’s seat on the board of Baratheon Enterprises while he was busy trying to deal with Cersei and drinking himself into an early grave, and Stannis was just trying to keep all the investors from abandoning ship.

Stannis was sure he probably would have snapped and started burning things if it hadn’t been for Sansa. She had been amazing through the whole experience, supporting and encouraging him when he felt like grinding his teeth to powder and tearing the rest of his hair out. With her at home and Davos by his side at work he was calmer and more focused than ever.

He had been able to support Sansa in return when she had to testify at Joffrey’s trial. (It turned out that she had unwittingly witnessed crucial events while she had been with Joffrey that the prosecution needed corroborated, and she had been _wonderful_ on the stand.) 

In general, they just supported and helped each other with anything and everything that they needed help with, and it made the continuous crisis they had been living through since the beginning of their marriage almost easy to handle.

Tonight Stannis intended to show her just how much her presence in his life meant to him. She had been organising a huge charity event for work for several weeks, and Stannis would be attending it with her. He intended to donate generously to the cause - that went without saying - but he also intended to do something that was long overdue.

“Where are we going?” Sansa asked with a laugh. She was in the best possible mood as the charity event was already a huge success. All the funds she had intended to raise had been donated during the first hour of the evening’s scheduled program.

“It’s just in here,” Stannis opened a door that led to comfortable little room.

“Are you taking me to one of the boxes?” Sansa asked, looking around with interest. “You know there’s nothing going on down on the stage, right?”

The charity event was being held at the Lincoln Center opera house, and though Sansa was quite right about the fact that there was nothing going on the stage, Stannis still thought she would enjoy the privacy of the room that came adjacent to the box he and his brothers usually used when they attended a show.

“Sansa,” he said, taking her hands and trying to tell her with his eyes that she should let him talk before she asked any more questions. “The past months have been hard.” He paused and tried to remember the next part of the speech he had rehearsed.

Sansa seemed to have understood that he was trying to say something important, and was looking up at him with an open, curious expression. She had dressed to the nines tonight, and as always, she had looked like a swan among flamingoes. He remembered thinking that the first time he saw her at that awful strip club. While the women at the club had been garishly done up to appeal to every base instinct a man possessed, Sansa had stood out due to her natural elegance and modest dress.

“You’ve been there for me in every single way, and I hope I’ve been there for you in return.”

“You have,” Sansa immediately said, squeezing his hands lightly.

“I - I wanted to show you, I mean - I need you to know…” he trailed off, unable to remember the words he had said a thousand times to himself in the mirror.

Sansa was patient, her eyes full of love. A small smile was playing on her lips, and he knew she would probably say his inability to articulate his words was endearing if he asked her what she was smiling about. He had seen that smile many times before.

Stannis decided that words were not his strong suit and stopped trying to say anything.

He got to one knee and pulled out a small box that contained the last piece of his mother’s jewellery that he hadn’t given Sansa yet.

Sansa’s lips parted in shock.

“Sansa Baratheon, will you marry me? Again?” he asked, opening the box to reveal the black onyx engagement ring. The band was gold, of course, and the polished piece of onyx was surrounded by diamonds that sparkled beautifully in the light of the small room.

She stared at him in complete disbelief for several heartbeats, and the short span of time felt like several eternities to him.

“Yes, of course,” Sansa laughed, her eyes filling with tears, “and don’t be - don’t be silly, please get up,” she added, shaking her head and attempting to tug him back to his feet.

He got up and immediately got the wind knocked out of him when Sansa threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly. A rare, wide smile made its way to his face.

“You look so handsome when you smile,” she said, tears and laughter in her voice at once. She started to pepper his face with kisses, and he couldn’t stop feeling like someone had set off a huge firework display inside his chest.

When her lips landed on his he used the opportunity to kiss her back, catching the nape of her neck with a hand to hold her still as he deepened the kiss.

“Try the ring on,” he said when their kiss broke, pleased to see the dazed, dreamy look in Sansa’s eyes.

The ring looked beautiful on her hand, matching perfectly with the plain wedding band from Vegas. They had never got around to getting them replaced as they had both grown rather attached to them.

He kissed her hand. “We can get new wedding bands when we have our second wedding,” he said, wanting her to know it was an option.

“Oh, but I like these,” Sansa said, smiling wistfully at her own hand. “Can’t we just have them engraved?”

“If that’s what you want.” He was already thinking about what sort of engraving to get.

“And can we have the wedding on a ship?” Sansa asked, biting her lip.

“Of course. We can ask Davos to officiate,” Stannis said, feeling like it would be absolutely perfect.

“I’d love that.” Sansa was smiling brightly enough to compete with the sun. 

“Me too,” he said, his voice deepening.

Sansa closed her eyes in response to his voice. When she opened them again she was looking at him in one of his very favourite ways.

“I wish we were at home right now,” she whispered, her pupils blowing out and her arms tightening around his neck. She was pressing herself against him very suggestively.

“That could be arranged,” he whispered in her ear.

“Do you think we could get away with disappearing?” she asked.

“I don’t see why not.”

“But I organised this event. Shouldn’t I see it through to the end?” Sansa was worrying at her bottom lip, looking torn.

“Are there any more speeches or things scheduled?”

“No…”

“Then you can leave. Come on.” He kissed her and hugged her a little tighter for a moment before letting go and heading for the door.

Sansa stifled a giggle and followed him.

***

Sansa loved her ring. She loved her ring, she loved her husband, and she loved her new proposal.

As a little girl she had always fantasised about how her prince charming would propose to her, and it had always been a magical moment in her mind. Romantic, passionate and sweet.

Joffrey had been romantic, passionate and sweet when he had proposed, but it had all been a sham. He hadn’t meant a word of it.

Stannis’ first proposal had been spur of the moment, and a little crazy, but Sansa had cherished the memory a lot more than she would ever cherish the memory of Joffrey’s ‘perfect’ proposal. But this third proposal, Stannis’ second, was definitely her favourite of the bunch. It was somewhere in between being a spur of the moment little thrill and being the elaborate production Joffrey had planned, with violins and roses and a huge diamond ring in a glass of Champagne. 

It was right in the Goldilocks zone. Just right. Perfect for her and perfect for _them_ as a couple.

Sansa smiled and looked down at her left hand again. She _really_ loved her new ring. She had never expected to like black onyx as much as she did, but after Stannis gave her the first set of Baratheon jewellery, his mother’s favourite pieces, she had fallen completely in love with the way it looked with her complexion and the way it played off the gold.

Stannis was black onyx in human form. She never would have expected to love him as much as she did. She had always thought diamonds were her favourite; a girl’s best friend. But she had returned the diamond Joffrey had given her with a huge sigh of relief and she had never missed it. Not once. There had been far too many strings attached to that rock. Onyx was her favourite now.

“Sansa?”

Sansa realised she had been sitting in a stationary car for at least a minute. Stannis was looking at her from the driver’s seat with a bit of concern.

“Sorry, I got lost in thought.” She smiled at him, hoping to reassure him.

He got out of the car and opened the door for her, helping her stand up. She was wearing taller heels than she usually wore as tonight had been a gala event, and she wasn’t entirely used to walking on them.

“What were you thinking about?” Stannis asked as they made their way up to their apartment.

“How much I love you,” she told him, meeting his eyes and trying to show him with everything she had that she meant it. She loved him so ridiculously much...

His eyes darkened with desire, and he ended up pushing her against the elevator mirror and kissing her rather thoroughly, his tongue making her toes curl and her lungs stop.

She was giggling and out of breath when they stumbled into their apartment, and Stannis barely seemed to care about closing the door behind them. He was more intent on taking his jacket and his bowtie off, right there in the foyer.

“The door!” she giggled, feeling bubbly and giddy and _happy._

Stannis elbowed it shut as he finished pulling his bowtie free, a look of hunger on his face.

“I would suggest getting yourself to the bedroom if you don’t want me to take you right here on the floor,” he said in a deep voice that sent heat rushing through her, pooling low in her belly.

“What if I want you to take me right here on the floor?” She asked, feeling her face warming slightly. She probably would have blushed a lot more at the idea a few months ago.

Stannis’ nostrils flared, and he abandoned his task of unbuttoning his shirt in favour of burying his hands in her hair and kissing her a touch roughly. She liked the passion of it, even though her skin would probably end up getting horribly chafed and her lips would swell.

Sansa hadn’t realised that he would take her at her word, but she really should have. Stannis always said what he meant and meant what he said. He expected the same from her. He was gentle when he pulled her down to the floor, and Sansa was glad that they had somehow made it a few steps into the apartment’s main living room. The hardwood of the main room was probably less uncomfortable than the stone tiles of the foyer would have been.

He pushed the skirt of her dress up, groaning when he saw that she was wearing stockings, and started to kiss her thighs. She got to her elbows and watched him, feeling excited and a little amused at the way he was trying to unbutton his shirt again - using just one hand - while also kissing and touching her. After a minute, when he had the shirt half off, he gave up and unbuckled his belt instead, using both hands and taking a break from his kissing.

She could see how aroused he was, and another flood of heat made its way through her. She felt _unbearably_ turned on.

Stannis was stroking himself and looking at her panties as if they were some sort of terrible annoyance.

“Could you take those off while I find a condom?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Sansa decided to tell him. She had been meaning to surprise him with it on his birthday, but this was an even better occasion.

“I started taking the pill a little more than a month ago. It should be safe to go without a condom.”

Stannis stared at her, and she did her best to show him that she was telling the truth by meeting his eyes.

“Thank you,” he groaned, climbing on top of her in a rush, pushing her panties aside and guiding his cock until the head caught on her entrance.

They both moaned as one when he thrust forward, filling her with a slightly sharp movement of his hips.

Sansa wasn’t sure they had ever been this out of control. She was on the floor for god’s sake. The skirt of her dress was bundled up around her waist, her panties were digging into her due to the way they were displaced, and her thighs were wrapped around her husband in the dirtiest sort of embrace there was.

“Sansa… sweetheart, oh, _god…_ ” Stannis breathed out, already sounding strained.

She moaned when he called her sweetheart, feeling her insides turn into mush.

“Is it good?” she asked, curious about the way it felt for him. They had both been focused on other things during their first time - the only other time they had done this without a condom - and she wanted to know what the difference was for him. For her there was something more _intimate_ about feeling him without anything getting in between them, and it was also simply more pleasant in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

He groaned very loudly and moved in and out a few times, creating the most wonderful friction, before he managed to choke out a response.

“It’s - _fuck_ \- it’s better than good…” he trailed off into incoherent grunts as he kept thrusting his hips, pumping his cock in and out of her steadily.

When they had first had sex Sansa hadn’t much liked the wet noises and the smacks that inevitably came with the activity. Now she _loved_ every illicit sound. There was something very satisfying and naughty about them, and Stannis seemed to enjoy hearing them quite a lot. Almost as much as he liked creating them.

She closed her eyes and focused on clenching her inner muscles, wanting to make Stannis groan again.

“Jesus, Sansa…” he rasped, speeding up and actually causing Sansa to slide a bit on the floor. The back of her gown was made of smooth silk, and her skin wasn’t sweaty enough to stick to the floor where it was exposed. He grabbed her shoulders, pinning her down with his weight and started thrusting _harder._

She tried to angle her hips so that he would start hitting the right spot inside her, and after a moment Stannis seemed to realise what she was doing. He started to shift around a bit with each new thrust, trying to help her.

“There!” she cried out when he filled her in just the right way, “oh, god! Stannis! Right there, please, please, don’t stop…”

He grunted and started to thrust with perfect precision, hitting the right spot every time, causing her body to feel like it was about to seize up or spasm or _explode._ She could hear herself crying out, her voice getting louder and louder, higher and higher, and she thought for a brief lucid second that she would probably be very hoarse in the morning.

Just when she wasn’t sure she could take any more, her muscles trembling with the force of her orgasm, he sped up to a frantic pace, creating smacks that echoed around the room and panting loudly with the effort.

She screamed at the overwhelming sensation, feeling like he was forcing a new orgasm from her even as she had been in the middle of her first one, and she scratched at his back where it wasn’t covered by his shirt without really being careful not to hurt him with her nails.

He didn’t seem to notice. His panting breaths had become the guttural sounds of his release, and she could tell that he was completely lost to the world.

He slowed to a halt as they both came down from their peaks, their breathing laboured and ragged, their skin sweaty and flushed where it wasn’t covered by improperly removed clothing.

Stannis rolled off, his cock slipping out with a bit of an embarrassing sound, and Sansa was surprised at the warm wet _mess_ between her legs.

 _Right. No condom._ She had forgotten about this part of not wearing a condom. Should she put her panties back into place and keep the mess from spreading, or should she should just let it run between her thighs and to the floor she was lying on?

“I’m - I’m sorry about the rush,” Stannis said, sounding a little awkward.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, smiling despite strange sensation of feeling more of _stuff_ dripping out of her and the cold discomfort of the hard floor beneath her. “This was exciting.”

He got a bit unsteadily to his feet and helped her up, too. Her dress fell back down, and Sansa wondered if the dry cleaner would be able to salvage it. The lining was probably getting a bit stained right now, and the skirt was wrinkle city after being bundled up the way it had been.

“We should clean up,” Stannis said, pulling his shirt back on as it had been hanging on by one sleeve. He winced a bit as the material covered his back up. “Did you scratch me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Sansa blushed. “A little?”

Stannis huffed out an amused breath. “I should ask you to marry me more often.”

It was a bit more work for her than usual to clean up, but eventually she and Stannis were happily cuddled up in bed. No more sticky mess between her thighs.

“Can we really get married on a ship? This summer?” It was already spring. Would they have time to plan the wedding?

“I can’t see why not.” Stannis was running his fingers through her hair -- lazy, pleasurable movements.

“And - um - can I do some of the wedding planning this time?” she asked, recalling how Stannis had planned their first wedding in Vegas, ordering a little army of Bellagio staff members to run in circles around him.

“Of course,” he said at once, “I want you to be pleased with it.”

“Do you think my mother could help with the planning?” Sansa bit her lip. She loved her mother, and she knew how much it would mean to her to be allowed to help with the arrangements. And her father… her father would want to walk her down the aisle...

“Anything you want,” he said, resting the hand that had been stroking her hair on the back of her head and kissing her chastely.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies burst into life inside her, and she she smiled at the sensation of a million tiny wings fluttering away, making her feel like she was floating.

She didn’t really need a big fancy wedding to let the world know that she loved Stannis. She didn’t need it to feel good about their relationship or to make it more official. She didn’t need it at all. But she wanted to go sailing with her family and her friends. She wanted to celebrate the fact that she had found the love of her life, and she wanted everyone to know how _happy_ she was.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Sansa melted against her husband and wondered whether it was possible to feel any better than she did at that moment.

She doubted it.

**The end**


	11. Epilogue

The day of Stannis’ and Sansa’s second wedding was bright, sunny and still. Sansa had never seen the ocean look so quiet and blue, and as there weren’t any clouds, it was almost difficult to tell where the ocean ended and the sky began.

The first half of the day was very casual. They had set sail in the morning sun, and nearly all the guests had ended up sunbathing by the yacht’s pool or even taking a dip. Sansa knew she would have to start getting ready shortly after lunch, so she had been enjoying the chance to relax with her friends and family.

“I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t let us throw you a bachelorette party,” Margaery complained, shifting around to display her perfectly tanned body to its best advantage. She was wearing a bikini that probably cost more than a month’s rent in the city, and it glittered prettily whenever she moved.

“You know why,” Sansa said, looking over at Jeyne and rolling her eyes. Jeyne hid a smile behind one of her hands, but her eyes betrayed her mirth.

“We wouldn’t have had to go to a strip club,” Margaery said, moving her designer sunglasses to the top of her head so that she would be able to catch Robb’s eye.

“He’s married,” Sansa hissed.

Robb did not seem to remember this. He was ogling Margaery’s perfectly displayed body like he was being paid to do it.

“All the good ones are,” Margaery sighed, dropping her sunglasses back down to her nose.

“I think that guy over there is single,” Jeyne said, nodding her head at a tall, dark and handsome drink of water. His name was Gendry, and he was one of Robert’s illegitimate children. Robert had been trying to reconnect with the fruits of his extramarital dalliances for the past few months. Gendry was one of the few who wanted to have anything to do with him. Mya Stone was the only other - er - ‘fruit’ to be invited to the wedding. She looked very pretty in cut-off jeans and what looked like a lot of Baratheon jewellery. Sansa recognised several pieces that she had seen Cersei wear a few times.

“Not for very long,” Sansa said, “look at the way he’s staring at Arya.”

“Look at the way _she’s_ staring at _him!_ ” Jeyne giggled.

“What is it with Baratheon men and Stark girls?” Margaery grumbled, reaching for her sun cream.

“Why so grouchy?” Sansa asked, watching as Margaery started spreading the cream over her arms, “I thought you were ‘living your best life’? Enjoying being single and spending all of Joffrey’s money?”

“I am,” Margaery said, “it’s been very enjoyable. I went to visit him in prison the other day. Did I tell you?”

Sansa’s eyes widened. “No, you didn’t. Why on earth?”

“I wanted to tell him in person that I sold his precious collection of medieval torture devices and weapons,” Margaery said with a wicked grin. “You should have seen the look on his face.”

Sansa covered her mouth with a hand and grinned. Joffrey had adored his macabre collection. She could well imagine his fury over losing it.

“Sadly I won’t be having more such visits with him. I met his grandfather on my way out of the prison and he read me the riot act. I’m to leave him alone. I think I’ll do as he asks... that man is terrifying.”

Sansa understood. She had never liked being left alone for any length of time with Tywin Lannister around. The way he looked at her had always made her feel like he could read her mind.

“I did pluck up the courage to ask him how he intended to ensure the safety of women everywhere once Joffrey got out of jail, though,” Margaery said, lifting her chin proudly, “it’s Tywin’s fault that Joffrey won’t rot in prison for the rest of his life. He paid the lawyers that managed to get Joffrey such a reduced sentence.”

“What did he say?” Sansa asked. She had pushed her worries about what Joffrey would do once he was free to the back of her mind, but the worries were still _there._

“He said he would take care of it,” Margaery said with a shrug. She had finished applying the sun cream everywhere she could reach. 

Sansa wordlessly offered to do Margaery’s back, thinking to herself that if anyone could keep Joffrey under control it was his grandfather.

“Enough about our ex. I want to find someone to hook up with! It’s nice to have someone to kiss when you’re at a wedding. There’s always so much romance in the air.”

“Well, don’t you dare hook up with my brother,” Sansa said, rubbing sun cream onto Margaery’s back with a little more force than necessary.

“Ow! I won’t, don’t worry. I just like to look, okay?” 

There was a brief moment of silence.

“What about your cousin? Can I hook up with him?”

Sansa slapped Margaery’s shoulder lightly. “Stop it.”

“Yeah, Jon’s mine,” Jeyne said, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

“What? Really?” Margaery didn’t seem to know whether to be annoyed to miss out on hooking up with Jon or excited about the gossip. “Does he lighten up when he’s in bed? He looks so… broody.”

“Sansa?” It was her father. He had walked over to the three girls and was now looking like he regretted it.

“Hi, Dad,” Sansa said with a smile. Thankfully her friends knew when to shut up.

“Your mother sent me,” he said, looking awkwardly at his feet. He did not seem entirely comfortable with Margaery’s revealing bikini. “She said something about a shoe emergency.”

Sansa got up from her lounge chair, the skirt of her powder blue sundress swishing about her knees. “Lead the way,” she said, smiling widely. She wasn’t worried about the shoes. She wasn’t worried about anything today. Maybe if this was her first wedding she would have been as frantic as her mother, but as she was already married it took a lot of the pressure off. Besides, Sansa knew that everything had been planned down to the last detail. She had been working with her mother for months to make sure nothing went wrong today, and she knew they had done their job well. There were colour coded notes, lists that had been checked off, and there were _binders._ Nothing could go wrong if you had binders.

As she and her father walked towards the cabin Catelyn had claimed for her headquarters, a comfortable silence fell. It surprised her when her father broke it, since he was usually content to be quiet.

“I want to thank you,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back as they ambled along. “Today means a lot to both your mother and me.”

“It means a lot to me, too,” Sansa hurried to say, feeling light and full of happiness.

“I know I’ve never been very demonstrative with my affections, but I want you to know that I love you very much.” Her father had stopped moving, so Sansa stopped, too. Their eyes met, and Sansa’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that there were tears in her father’s eyes.

“I’ve always loved you very much,” he added, his voice a little shaky. “I always - I always looked forward to being there for you on your wedding day. You have been such a princess ever since I can remember, and I never really knew how to - how to talk to you. But I knew that I would have a special role to play as father of the bride… that I would - that I would know what to do. What to say.” He swallowed a few times and drew in a deep breath. “I’m so happy for you, lemon drop.”

Before Sansa could process everything her father had said he had wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

Her vision was blurry when they parted.

“I love you, Daddy,” she said, feeling a tear escape.

Her father caught the tear with his thumb and kissed her forehead. They were quiet for a several heartbeats, both attempting to get their emotions under control.

“We should keep going. Your mother… there’s a shoe emergency.”

Sansa nodded and took a deep breath.

The shoe emergency turned out to be a black smudge that her mother couldn’t get off Sansa’s white suede heels. Thankfully, Sansa had thought to pack a suede brush and a nail brush - it had been on one of her lists - and they managed to shift the stain using a bit of warm water to help it along.

Lunch was served. Breads, cheeses, smoked salmon, fruit and few different types of salad. Robert complained very loudly about the lack of meat. Sansa’s father promised there would meat for dinner, and though he grumbled a bit, Robert settled down after that.

Sansa sat with her friends again, since she and Stannis were being kept apart until the ceremony. She hadn’t seen him since the night before.

“Do you know who’s keeping Stannis company?” Jeyne asked before popping a piece of pineapple into her mouth.

“Davos,” Sansa said, looking around to make sure. Sure enough, Stannis and Davos were both absent.

“Davos is the one who’s going to officiate, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Sansa said, absently pulling a grape from the bunch she had on her plate.

“I think I saw him when we boarded. He was wearing such a cool uniform.”

“Oh, I saw him, too!” Margaery exclaimed. “His hat was pretty sexy.”

“He’s married,” Sansa said, rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Margaery protested, “I just love looking at men in uniforms.”

“Me, too!” Jeyne giggled.

“I remember,” Sansa said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. Nearly all the male strippers in Vegas had been wearing uniforms. At first.

Sansa went back to her mother’s headquarters a little after she finished making fun of Margaery and Jeyne for becoming all weak in the knees at the idea of a man in uniform, and was soon showered, moisturised and ready to become as beautiful as she and her mother could possibly make her. There wasn’t too much for them to do as Sansa had spent the past week running in and out of beauty salons: getting her hair styled, her skin pampered, her unwanted body hair removed, and her nails done.

Still, they drank bubbly, played around with Catelyn’s expensive makeup kit, and spent half an hour deciding which perfume Sansa ought to wear.

It really astounded Sansa how many different makeup products it was possible to use to achieve a natural, fresh look. She never usually used half as many different things, but her mother insisted, and the outcome really was quite good. Her mother knew a trick using a certain shade of blush that made Sansa’s skin look almost ethereal.

Sansa also thought it was quite ridiculous how long it could take to get her hair to look effortlessly wavy and full-bodied.

The time flew by, however, since she and her mother were simply enjoying the experience of getting ready together; reminiscing, laughing, and embarrassing each other when the time came to put the wedding lingerie on.

“Here, put this on,” Sansa’s mother said, opening the door to the en suite just a crack and sticking her hand through. Sansa had been in the middle of fastening her garter belt, but she dropped the straps in order to accept the lacy blue garter that her mother was handing her.

“What’s this?” Sansa asked, watching her mother’s hand disappear.

“It’s the one I wore on my wedding night. It’s something borrowed and something blue.”

“Mom!” Sansa felt herself blush to the roots of her hair. “I can’t wear this.”

“Of course you can! I’m fairly sure I conceived Robb while I was wearing it, so it’s good luck.”

Sansa stared at the lacy bit of lingerie in her hand and didn’t know whether to die of embarrassment or laugh.

“It’s been washed,” her mother added.

Sansa burst into nervous laughter.

In the end she decided to put it on since it seemed to mean a lot to her mother, but she decided not to tell Stannis where it came from. He really wouldn’t want to know.

The ivory wedding dress was Sansa’s ‘something new’, and it was the most beautiful gown she had ever worn. It was fairly light, though it was floor length, made of the softest silks and the most delicate lace, and it was shot through with gold thread. The neckline was modest, but it was off the shoulder and it plunged at the back, so it showed _some_ skin.

The last finishing touch, after the veil, the pink rose bouquet, and the suede shoes, was the jewellery. Sansa was wearing the Baratheon treasures Stannis had given to her, and they matched the gown perfectly. They also served as her ‘something old’.

“Darling,” her mother breathed, tears in her eyes as she stood back and admired Sansa, “you’re a vision.”

Sansa walked over the full length mirror and blinked at her reflection.

There hadn’t been anything wrong with her first wedding ensemble, but she had to admit that this time she looked significantly more special. Everything that she was wearing was especially chosen to suit her and fit her personality, and it really showed. 

She was glowing.

“Now you wait here,” her mother said, sniffing a little and trying to wipe her eyes without ruining her eye makeup, “I’ll go and make sure your father and the boys have been getting everyone into position. Your father will come and get you when it’s time.”

Sansa nodded, and felt a little silly about not being able to tear her eyes away from her reflection. But if she wasn’t allowed to have a little Narcissus moment today, when would she?

The time she spent waiting for her father seemed to pass by at two speeds at once. It felt both as if every second was crawling by at a snail’s pace, and as if the door had only closed on her mother’s back when her father opened it a blink of an eye later.

“Oh,” her father said when he saw her, all the air leaving his lungs in a rush, “ _Sansa._ ”

Her face hurt. She was smiling so widely that her muscles ached. “You like it?” she asked, twirling around in a circle for him.

“I haven’t seen a woman look this beautiful since my own wedding day,” her father said, taking a tentative step towards her. She could tell that he wanted to hug her, so she carefully place her bouquet on a nearby table and opened her arms wide.

It was a very careful hug - “I don’t want to wrinkle your dress” - but it was loving and genuine, and Sansa was sure her face would cramp up if she kept smiling like this.

Her father was smiling too when they parted, and Sansa wished she had a camera handy to capture it. Ned Stark did not smile very often.

“Ready?” he asked her, raising his eyebrows.

Sansa picked her pink roses back up. “Ready,” she said with a nod.

They made their way to the upper deck where the ceremony would take place in silence, sometimes exchanging smiles, and walking slowly since Sansa was in heels and a long dress. It was wonderfully comforting to tuck her hand into the crook of her father’s elbow and know that he would keep her steady on her feet, and Sansa felt gladder than ever that she and Stannis had decided to have this second wedding.

When they finally made it to the upper deck, Sansa heard the violinist and the harpist start playing the Canon in D major Bridal Chorus, and everyone stood up, leaving a clear path for Sansa and her father to follow. The sun starting to set, and the sky was _beautiful._ Sansa could see Davos at the other end of the deck, looking very handsome in his white captain’s uniform. And next to Davos…

“Oh,” Sansa breathed, feeling her eyes widen.

Stannis was wearing a full dress navy blue uniform, with white gloves and… was that a sword? Sansa’s heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt herself blush when she walked past Margaery and Jeyne and heard them giggling. Had they known Stannis would be wearing all that? Was that why they had been talking about men in uniforms?

She had never really had a particular interest in uniforms, but now she was rapidly developing a fetish. 

_Will I be allowed to wear the hat?_

Stannis seemed to be just as stunned by her appearance as she was by his, and that made her feel a little bit better about how hard it was to breathe. He was looking at her like she was the sunrise, the moon, the stars and the aurora borealis all wrapped up in one, and she felt her blush deepen at the blatant admiration in his eyes.

She could barely look away from him as her father kissed her cheek and went to join her crying mother, but somehow she managed to smile. She smiled and smiled and smiled through the whole ceremony, staring into Stannis’ eyes and not really listening to a word of what Davos was saying.

Thankfully they were prodded into action when the time came to put the rings on. Rickon was not nearly as cherubic a ringbearer as Tommen had been at Margaery’s wedding, but he was very dapper in his suit, and looked quite proud of himself for having a role to play in the wedding.

The rings were the same golden bands that they had put on in Vegas, but they had added personal inscriptions. Stannis’ slightly wider band read: _’Yours always, Sansa’,_ and her own wedding band read: _’All my love, Stannis’._

At the end of the ceremony, when the time came to kiss, Sansa was ready. She had been convinced that Stannis would dip her again like he’d done at Joffrey and Margaery’s wedding brunch, and she was not disappointed. Because she had been expecting it, she was able to play along and point the toe of one foot straight out, creating rather a fabulous photo op. (She hoped.) She heard several cameras clicking away, so she would probably find out eventually.

The cheers and the cat calls didn’t stop until long after the kiss did, and she and Stannis had to make a run for it when the guests started throwing rice in the air. They would have a minute or so to recuperate and then they would go back outside to be congratulated.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to wear a uniform!” Sansa giggled as soon as they were alone.

Stannis smiled and picked a grain of rice from her hair. “Well, you didn’t tell me you were going to impersonate some sort of goddess.”

Sansa blushed and stood up on the tips of her toes to kiss him. It was slow and sweet.

“Can I try the hat on?” she whispered when their lips parted.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to take your dress off first. Those are the rules.” 

He was amused, and the lighter blue colour of his eyes warmed Sansa down to her toes. The implications of his words also warmed her in another, very delicious way.

“Can we go to the bridal suite?” she asked, giving him a heated look and feeling rather a lot like trying Stannis’ hat on, implications and all.

“We’re supposed to go back outside,” Stannis told her, straightening his back and doing a very good impression of being stern.

“Must we?” she pouted, feeling playful and absolutely carefree.

Stannis kissed her again and made a reluctant sort of growling noise. “Yes.”

Sansa sighed. “All right, let’s go.”

It was wonderful. Everyone was so happy for them, and everyone was smiling. Except the people who were crying happy tears -- a fair few.

The reception went off without a hitch, the Champagne was delicious, the food to die for, and the speeches heartfelt. (Somehow her father had convinced Robert to make a nice, proper speech. Only one rude joke.) 

Stannis almost died of embarrassment when the guests insisted on him going up Sansa’s skirt and collecting her garter without using his hands, but Sansa could tell he felt a little smug when he managed it without too much trouble.

Arya caught Sansa’s bouquet when she threw it, and the look on her face when it landed in her hands was something that Sansa would never forget. Complete bafflement, followed by a rosy blush and a glance at Gendry. Sansa laughed when she tried to foist the bouquet off on Jeyne without much success.

Sansa was quite tipsy by the time she and Stannis cut the wedding cake and fed each other little pieces, and she knew she would probably be giggling in all the photographs. Stannis seemed remarkably relaxed and amused about it all, and did not appear to mind the way she hung around his neck for the first dance, pressing herself tightly against him and looking up at him through lowered lashes.

It was past midnight when the yacht sailed back to the harbour to let the guests make their way home, and they smiled and laughed as they said good-bye to her and Stannis. Her parents hugged and kissed her, Arya told her not to do anything she wouldn’t do, and Robb attempted to squeeze Stannis’ hand too tightly in a misguided attempt at being the overprotective older brother. (Somehow Robb was the one who ended up cradling his hand and complaining about blood flow.)

The whole day had been like one long headrush, and Sansa didn’t want it to end.

“I want to dance some more,” she said as they waved at the last guests as they disembarked. (Margaery and Jon. They were too busy to wave back.)

“I thought you wanted to try my hat on,” Stannis murmured, tracing the line of her jaw with a finger.

She felt her heart speed up. His voice did things to her that should probably be illegal.

It was so very tempting to give in and ask him to take her to the bridal suite, but she really had her heart set on dancing to once more song. She and Bran had made the playlist for the wedding reception, and she knew there was one song that hadn’t played yet.

“Please?”

“All right. One dance,” Stannis said, the fine lines around his eyes deepening as his lips quirked with the ghost of a smile.

Sansa kissed him quickly and hurried over to the computer that was hooked up to the sound system. It didn’t take her very long to find the song she wanted and press play.

_Some day, when I'm awfully low / When the world is cold / I will feel a glow just thinking of you / And the way you look tonight…_

Stannis raised an eyebrow as they found each other on the makeshift dance floor. “Frank Sinatra?”

“I know it’s a cliché, but I love this song,” Sansa said, clinging to her husband and swaying to the music.

“It’s a classic,” Stannis said, holding her close.

They didn’t say anything else for the rest of the song, though Stannis surprised her by murmuring along with the lyrics in a way that made her want to melt into a puddle of ivory silk.

He kissed her at the end, and they stopped moving. The whole world stopped moving -- just for an instant.

“Take me to bed,” Sansa whispered, and the world started moving again.

They walked most of the way to the suite, but when they were fairly close Stannis gave up on how slow she was in her heels and picked her up.

“You know you don’t have to carry my over the threshold again,” Sansa giggled, relishing the way it felt to rest in his arms.

Stannis did it anyway, and as soon as the door was shut behind them, he was helping her out of her dress. She could tell he was trying to be patient, but Sansa wasn’t in the mood for slow.

As soon as her dress had been taken care of she stole Stannis’ hat, kicked off her shoes and got on the bed. It was covered with pink rose petals, real ones that smelled divine.

Stannis swallowed and cleared his throat. “You can keep the hat on,” he said, his hands fumbling with his complicated uniform.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Sansa laughed, watching with interest as he revealed himself, bit by bit. “I’m so ready for you,” she added, lowering her voice to a whisper. It was true. She doubted she would need much foreplay.

He wasn’t fully naked by the time they had managed to get all of her lingerie off, but as they were both completely out of patience, she simply climbed on top of him, and impaled herself on his cock without wasting more time. The fly of his trousers was undone and his chest was accessible, and that was all she really needed.

It was a wild ride with sloppy kisses, groping hands and panting, ragged breaths. Stannis was bucking up beneath her, looking at her with hooded appreciative eyes. She could tell that he liked the view, and was amused when he spent almost as much time looking at the hat on her head as he did looking at her face and breasts.

When her thighs got tired she told him, and he ended up rolling them over. Sansa wrapped her legs around Stannis so tightly that he could barely pull out of her in order to thrust back in, so he simply started grinding himself against her, creating tight little circles that caused sparks of pleasure to shoot from her centre at an alarming rate. After a while of that she came with a whimpered moan, and Stannis used the opportunity while her legs lost their strength to escape her hold on him and get on his knees for more leverage.

She looked up at him when he began to thrust in a way that would bring him to the finish line too, and smiled at the look of concentration she found. His eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted, and he had the worst case of hat hair she had ever seen.

Feeling a little silly, she took the hat off her own head and put it back where it belonged. Stannis opened his eyes in surprise, his rhythm faltering for a moment.

“You want me to wear it now?” he asked, balancing on one hand for a moment to fix the way the hat sat on his head.

She had only meant to tease him a bit, but now that she saw him wearing it while she could feel his cock inside her, she decided that she _definitely_ wanted him to keep it on. “God, yes,” she moaned.

“You like my uniform, sweetheart?” he rasped, starting to thrust steadily again.

“Yes,” she said, clenching up around him for emphasis.

“You like being fucked like this?” He sped up.

“Yes!” She loved it when he talked a little dirty; his voice just made everything _better._

He kept talking until it became clear that he couldn’t make coherent words anymore, and the only sounds that he managed were grunts of effort.

Sansa just kept saying yes, loving everything about what he was doing and never wanting him to stop. There was something indescribably hot about feeling him deep inside and seeing him work up a sweat, his muscles tensing and his hat somehow staying perfectly in place.

When he shifted into the frenzy that meant his climax was imminent, he found just the right spot inside her, and her abdomen started to clench up with a deep, _deep_ orgasm. They both cried out at once, reaching their respective peaks at exactly the same moment, and Sansa imagined that she could feel the warmth of his release inside her as everything tightened and pulsed.

It took them a while to recover and find the strength to leave bed for long enough to take care of the mess they had made, but eventually they were clean and naked and tangled around each other in the best of ways.

“Thank you for today,” Sansa murmured against Stannis’ neck, pressing her lips to the place where his pulse was steady and slow.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you for everything you did to plan this,” he answered, sounding sleepy and satisfied. “You even got Robert to behave.”

Sansa let out a bit of a laugh. “That was Dad. He is some sort of Robert whisperer.”

“Remind me to send your father a… um. What does Ned like?“

“He likes fishing, I think.”

“Remind me to send him a fishing rod, then. Or a tackle box.”

“I will,” Sansa agreed, thinking that it might be nice to go fishing with her father one day. Maybe now that they had started to communicate properly the idea wasn’t so far-fetched? Although she’d have to get over her dislike of doing anything that required outdoorsy wear and the possibility of falling into a lake and getting covered in fish gore.

… Perhaps she would just send Stannis fishing with her father and then throw a dinner party for them. They’d be able to eat the catch of the day and it would be lovely.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere? Have a proper honeymoon?” Stannis asked, distracting her from thoughts of fishing trips and family dinners. It was a conversation they’d had a few times before, and Stannis was just picking up where they’d left off.

Sansa was sure. There were so many things going on at work right now that it would just make more sense to take time off a bit later in the year. She had talked to Stannis about going on a trip to Europe, visions of gondolas and art museums drifting along in her imagination, and he had seemed very willing.

She decided to tease him a bit. 

“No, actually, I’ve changed my mind.” She hid her smile in the crook of Stannis’ neck, and suppressed the urge to laugh.

“Oh?” Stannis sounded intrigued, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone that told her that he was on to her.

“Yes,” she said, her suppressed laughter bleeding into her tone, “I think we should go to Vegas.” She lost the battle and started to giggle a little madly, getting louder when Stannis used his fingers to poke her in the side in a way that _tickled._

“Behave, or I might just take you there.”

Sansa couldn’t stop laughing. 

Eventually Stannis relented and laughed a bit, too.

There was just something about Vegas that always did - and probably always would - bring a smile to their faces.

**Really the end!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting. I hope your teeth haven't fallen out due to the sugary nature of this story.
> 
> Special thanks to Tommy for inspiring me to write this in the first place and being an incredible cheerleader. ♥


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